In the dusk of the forest shade
A sallow and dusty group reclined;
Gallops a horseman up the glade--
"Where will I your leader find?
Tidings I bring from the morning's scout--
I've borne them o'er mound, and moor, and fen."
"Well, sir, stay not hereabout,
Here are only a few of 'the men.'

"Here no collar has bar or star,
No rich lacing adorns a sleeve;
Further on our officers are,
Let them your report receive.
Higher up, on the hill up there,
Overlooking this shady glen.
There are their quarters--don't stop here,
We are only some of 'the men.'

"Yet stay, courier, if you bear
Tidings that the fight is near;
Tell them we're ready, and that where
They wish us to be we'll soon appear;
Tell them only to let us know
Where to form our ranks, and when;
And we'll teach the vaunting foe
That they've met a few of 'the men.'

"We're the men, though our clothes are worn--
We're the men, though we wear no lace--
We're the men, who the foe hath torn,
And scattered their ranks in dire disgrace;
We're the men who have triumphed before--
We're the men who will triumph again;
For the dust, and the smoke, and the cannon's roar,
And the clashing bayonets--'we're the men.'

"Ye who sneer at the battle-scars,
Of garments faded, and soiled and bare,
Yet who have for the 'stars and bars'
Praise, and homage, and dainty fare;
Mock the wearers and pass them on,
Refuse them kindly word--and then
Know, if your freedom is ever won
By human agents--these are the men!"

"A Rebel Soldier Killed in the Trenches before Petersburg, Va., April 15, 1865."