In the mist of the morning damp and gray, These were the words they seemed to say: "Come forth to thy death, Victor galbraith!"
"The Complete Poetical Works of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow"
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Forth he came, with a martial tread; Firm was his step, erect his head; Victor galbraith, He who so well the bugle played, Could not mistake the words it said: "Come forth to thy death, Victor galbraith!"
"The Complete Poetical Works of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow"
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
He looked at the earth, he looked at the sky, He looked at the files of musketry, Victor galbraith!
"The Complete Poetical Works of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow"
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
