You are never to worship him as you did McClellan, But at the last you can trust him. He slaughters you But he sees that you are fed. After sullen Cold Harbor They call him a butcher and want him out of the saddle, But you have had other butchers who did not win And this man wins in the end. You see him standing, Reading a map, unperturbed, under heavy fire. You do not cheer him as the recruits might cheer But you say “Ulysses doesn’t scare worth a darn. Ulysses is all right. He can finish the job.” And at last your long lines go past in the Grand Review And your legend and his begins and are mixed forever.