The thin Pennsylvanian puts on his spectacles To read the order. Tall, sad-faced and austere, He has the sharp, long nose of a fighting-bird, A prudent mouth and a cool, considering mind. An iron-gray man with none of Hooker’s panache, But resolute and able, well skilled in war; They call him “the damned old goggle-eyed snapping-turtle” At times, and he does not call out the idol-shout When he rides his lines, but his prudence is a hard prudence, And can last out storms that break the men with panache, Though it summons no counter-storm when the storm is done.

His sombre schoolmaster-eyes read the order well. It is three days before the battle. He thinks at first Of a grand review, gives it up, and begins to act.