VIII.

In the hottest of the battle stood a Vandal bunting rag, Proudly to the breeze 'twas floating in defiance to our flag; And our Southern boys knew well that, to bring that bunting down, They would meet the angel death in his sternest, maddest frown; But it could not gallant Armstrong, dauntless Vollmer, or brave Lynch, Though ten thousand deaths confronted, from the task of honor flinch!