POEMS OF JAMES RYDER RANDALL
ON THE RAMPART
On Sumter’s rampart, that sweet eve,
I heard the vesper bugle play
In chorus with the ocean’s heave,
All in the golden prime of May.
On either side, the level lands
Swam seaward gray and serpentine;
The billows burst in corsair bands
Against their shield of rock and pine.
Aloof, beyond the sullen bar
Crouching, the black armada rides—
Afront the vulture ships of war,
Brooded the giant Ironsides.
The fortress guns scowled from their lair
Along the sentry’s bristling beat;
While on the sultry wave, aglare,
Back frowned the gaunt and baffled fleet.
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