lirik lagu stephen vincent benét - the opening of the battle of gettysburg
they came on to fish~hook gettysburg in this way, after this fashion
over hot pikes heavy with pollen, past fields where the wheat was high
peaches grew in the orchards; it was a fertile country
full of red barns and fresh springs and dun, deep~uddered kine
a farmer lived with a clear stream that ran through his very house~room
they cooled the b~tter in it and the milk, in their wide, stone jars;
a dusty georgian came there, to eat and go on to battle;
they dipped the milk from the jars, it was cold and sweet in his mouth
he heard the clear stream’s music as the german housewife served him
remembering the shenandoah and a stream poured from a rock;
he ate and drank and went on to the gunwheels crushing the harvest
it was a thing he remembered as long as any guns
country of broad~backed horses, stone houses and long, green meadows
where getty came with his ox~team to found a steady town
and the little trains of my boyhood puffed solemnly up the valley
past the market~squares and the lindens and the quaker meeting~house
penn stood under his oak with a painted sachem beside him
the market~women sold scr~pple when the first red maples turned;
when the buckeyes slipped from their sheaths, you could gather a pile of buckeyes
red~brown as old polished boots, good to touch and hold in the hand
the ice~cream parlor was papered with scenes from paul and virginia
the pigs were fat all year, you could stand a spoon in the cream
— penn stood under his oak with a feathered pipe in his fingers
his eyes were quiet with god, but his wits and his bargain sharp
so i remember it all, and the light sound of buckeyes falling
on the worn rose~bricks of the pavement, herring~boned, trodden for years;
the great yellow shocks of wheat and the dust~white road through summer
and, in fall, the green walnut sh~lls, and the stain they left for a while
so i remember you, ripe country of broad~backed horses
valley of cold, sweet springs and dairies with limestone~floors;
and so they found you that year, when they scared your cows with their cannon
and the strange south moved against you, lean marchers lost in the corn
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