Army of the Potomac, advancing army, Alloy of a dozen disparate, alien States, City-boy, farm-hand, bounty-man, first volunteer, Old regular, drafted recruit, paid substitute, Men who fought through the war from First Bull Run, And other men, nowise different in look or purpose, Whom the first men greeted at first with a ribald cry “Here they come! Two hundred dollars and a ka-ow!” Rocks from New England and hickory-chunks from the West, Bowery boy and clogging Irish adventurer, Germans who learnt their English under the shells Or didn’t have time to learn it before they died. Confused, huge weapon, forged from such different metals, Misused by unlucky swordsmen till you were blunt And then reforged with anguish and bloody sweat To be blunted again by one more unlucky captain Against the millstone of Lee. Good stallion, Ridden and ridden against a hurdle of thorns By uncertain rider after uncertain rider. The rider fails and you shiver and catch your breath,