Suddenly out of the wood, with a swift and resolute movement, Over the long slow slope of the hollowing plain to the eastward, Swept the tried Virginians, the war-seasoned soldiers of Pickett. Swinging with springing step, in the distance a rhythmic pulsation, Blithely they marched as those who march in a holiday pageant; Lightly they marched, and afar the foemen that looked on them loved them. Rode at the head of the column Pickett the soldier intrepid, Proudly, with cap a-slant, and cavalier locks free-floating; Rode with their brave brigades Armistead, Kemper, and Garnett. Joined the advance on the left, Pettigrew leading and Trimble, Regiments grim and seared with the scorch of the two days’ battle, Bleeding and torn with loss, but prompt to the fiery renewal: Mississippians fierce, and the undismayed Tennesseans, Valorous Alabamans, and soldiers of North Carolina. Onward the long wave rolled, steadily, steadily onward, Gray wave glinting with steel, and the battle-flags floating above it. So have you seen on the shore the line of the billow advancing, Fateful, unhasting, sure, to the charge uprearing exultant Threaten the land with its strength; from its crest, for an exquisite instant, Foam-bows backward stream,--in the next, it has vanished forever! Onward the long wave rolled, steadily, steadily onward, Over the hollowing plain, and the trampled green of the cornfields. Stood the two armies at gaze; until, from the stronghold of Howard, Hill of the Graves, and the ridge, and the shoulder of Round-Top the Lesser, Burst the leashed lightnings anew, and the roars of the thunder ironic! Forth from their hot black dens in the gorge of the cavernous cannon,-- Guns new-thrust into place,--freed for the service appointed, Tigerish, Death and Fire leaped on the open arena. One low sound was heard through the tumult, and deeply remembered, Human, the moan of life mowed as the grass of the meadow. One sharp shudder ran through the host of the South, the beholders. (Over the mind of the Chief a memory, thrilling electric, Flashed, the revenge of Time: and he saw the blue-coated battalions Move through the winterly light of the cruel Thirteenth of December Up to the sunken wall that was topped with the rifles of Georgia: Stubborn and stern they came, to pile the bleak field with their bodies. He, who had looked on that day, looked now on his own, his Virginians, Drinking the cup of fire, like their brothers, their foemen, before them. Sorrow and pride in his soul struggled; he suffered, and spoke not.) Pain possessed the field, and the smoke-veil settled upon it; Yet underneath the cloud, as a strong wave under the sea-mist, Rolled the lessening line, steadily, steadily onward.