MaineMilitia.com

Stonewall

It was his army, an army of God.
His stonewall, ragged and gray.
They were his braves, the bare foot cavalry.
Through the wilderness they marched
like the children of Egypt.
A wilderness of pine
and bramble rather than sand and stone.
How swiftly they marched,
toward a promise-land of their own.
The promise of victory.

Sons of the South, fathers of a new country,
followed an old blue light.
There were thousands of souls
like thousands of stones
chiseled and seasoned by a season of storms.
Like a stonewall they did not break.
Into the back and belly of the luckless foe,
this stonewall sailed.
Never before could one beat three.
Yet there was little David and his
little sling.
And there was Jackson and his little army.
Though all the odds and gods were against them,
they had the protection of their one mighty God.
So by a sling and David's faith, a giant fell.
By the fury of a rebel charge and Jackson's faith,
a giant flew.
When the light of victory shown
through the storm that he led
our Jackson would soon lay dead.

He is gone though the old blue light never fades.
He crossed over the River Jordan and now rests under
the shade of trees. Over the river our leader led
to a promise land. A promise of victory and land of
peace. Guarded along its shores by a stonewall, ragged and gray.
-Zac (Dedicated to Jackson and his men and their stonewall legacy) May 2, 2006