The Advance-Guard
In the dream of the Northern poets,The braves who in battle dieFight on in shadowy phalanxIn the field of the upper sky;And as we read the sounding rhyme,The reverent fancy hearsThe ghostly ring of the viewless swordsAnd the clash of the spectral spears.
We think with imperious questioningsOf the brothers whom we have lost,And we strive to track in death's mysteryThe flight of each valiant ghost.The Northern myth comes back to us,And we feel, through our sorrow's night,That those young souls are striving stillSomewhere for the truth and light.
It was not their time for rest and sleep;Their hearts beat high and strong;In their fresh veins the blood of youthWas singing its hot, sweet song.The open heaven bent over them,'Mid flowers their lithe feet trod,Their lives lay vivid in light, and blestBy the smiles of women and God.
Again they come! Again I hearThe tread of that goodly band;I know the flash of Ellsworth's eyeAnd the grasp of his hard, warm hand;And Putnam, and Shaw, of the lion-heart,And an eye like a Boston girl's;And I see the light of heaven which layOn Ulric Dahlgren's curls.
There is no power in the gloom of hellTo quench those spirits' fire;There is no power in the bliss of heavenTo bid them not aspire;But somewhere in the eternal planThat strength, that life survive,And like the files on Lookout's crest,Above death's clouds they strive.
A chosen corps, they are marching onIn a wider field than ours;Those bright battalions still fulfilThe scheme of the heavenly powers;And high brave thoughts float down to us,The echoes of that far fight,Like the flash of a distant picket's gunThrough the shades of the severing night.
No fear for them! In our lower fieldLet us keep our arms unstained,That at last we be worthy to stand with themOn the shining heights they've gained.We shall meet and greet in closing ranksIn Time's declining sun,When the bugles of God shall sound recallAnd the battle of life be won.
Words in this poem
- ghostly a.
- Relating to the soul; not carnal or secular; spiritual; as, a ghostly confessor. [OE. gastlich, gostlich, AS. gastlic. See Ghost.]
- viewless a.
- Not perceivable by the eye; invisible; unseen.
- imperious a.
- Commanding; ascendant; imperial; lordly; majestic. [L. imperiosus: cf. F. impérieux. See Imperial.]
- valiant a.
- Vigorous in body; strong; powerful; as, a valiant fencer. [OE. valiant, F. vaillant, OF. vaillant, valant, originally p. pr. of OF. & F. valoir to be worth, L. valere to be strong. See Wield, and cf. Avail, Convalesce, ]
- ghost n.
- The spirit; the soul of man. [OE. gast, gost, soul, spirit, AS. gast breath, spirit, soul; akin to OS. g spirit, soul, D. geest, G. geist, and prob. to E. gaze, ghastly.]
- somewhere adv.
- In some place unknown or not specified; in one place or another.
- lithe v. i.
- To listen or listen to; to hearken to. P. Plowman. [Icel Listen.]
- goodly a.
- Pleasant; agreeable; desirable. [OE. godlich, AS. g. See Good, and Like.]
- shaw n.
- A thicket; a small wood or grove. [Obs. or Prov.Eng. & Scot.] [OE. schawe, scha, thicket, grove, AS. scaga; akin to Dan. skov, Sw. skog, Icel. sk.]
- aspire v. t.
- To aspire to; to long for; to try to reach; to mount to.
- corps n.
- The human body, whether living or dead. See Corpse, 1. [F., fr. L. corpus body. See Corpse.]
- shall v. i.
- To owe; to be under obligation for. [OE. shal, schal, imp. sholde, scholde, AS. scal, sceal, I am obliged, imp. scolde, sceolde, inf. sculan; akin to OS. skulan, pres. skal, imp. skolda, D. zullen,]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
The Advance-Guard is in the public domain. This text is taken from Pike County Ballads and Other Poems, Project Gutenberg ebook #6062; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: John Hay, The Advance-Guard, in Pike County Ballads and Other Poems (1871), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #6062, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/hay-pike-county/the-advance-guard.html, id L21595.
Form and metre
The Advance-Guard is 56 lines in 7 stanzas of 8 lines each. The metre is iambic tetrameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 81%).
See other poems in iambic tetrameter.
Measured by Laurel's pipeline, not copied from a handbook: how stress and metre are counted, how rhyme is lettered, how a drifted rhyme is found. Where the dictionary cannot confirm a rhyme the letter is withheld, not guessed.
Rhyme words, stanza by stanza
The word that ends each line, lettered by the rhyme it makes; a dash is a line whose rhyme the dictionary could not confirm.
- 1 -A-A-B-B poets · dieA · phalanx · skyA · rhyme · hearsB · swords · spearsB
- 2 -----A-A questionings · lost · mystery · ghost · us · nightA · still · lightA
- 3 -A-A-B-B sleep · strongA · youth · songA · them · trodB · blest · godB
- 4 -A-A-B-B hear · bandA · eye · handA · heart · girl'sB · lay · curlsB
- 5 -ABABC-C hell · fireA · heavenB · aspireA · planB · surviveC · crest · striveC
- 6 -A-A-B-B on · oursA · fulfil · powersA · us · fightB · gun · nightB
- 7 -A-A-B-B field · unstainedA · them · gainedA · ranks · sunB · recall · wonB
Scansion, line by line
Each line with its syllable count and the stresses the words themselves fix: / stressed, ˘ unstressed, · a syllable the word leaves free and the metre decides. Read against iambic tetrameter. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| In the dream of the Northern poets, | 9 | ·····/˘/˘ |
| The braves who in battle die | 7 | ····/˘· |
| Fight on in shadowy phalanx | 8 | ···/˘˘/˘ |
| In the field of the upper sky; | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| And as we read the sounding rhyme, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| The reverent fancy hears | 7 | ·/˘˘/˘· |
| The ghostly ring of the viewless swords | 9 | ·/˘···/˘· |
| And the clash of the spectral spears. | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| We think with imperious questionings | 9 | ···˘/˘/˘˘ |
| Of the brothers whom we have lost, | 8 | ··/˘···· |
| And we strive to track in death's mystery | 9 | ·······/˘ |
| The flight of each valiant ghost. | 7 | ····/˘· |
| The Northern myth comes back to us, | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| And we feel, through our sorrow's night, | 8 | ····//˘· |
| That those young souls are striving still | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| Somewhere for the truth and light. | 7 | /······ |
| It was not their time for rest and sleep; | 9 | ········· |
| Their hearts beat high and strong; | 6 | ······ |
| In their fresh veins the blood of youth | 8 | ········ |
| Was singing its hot, sweet song. | 7 | ·/˘···· |
| The open heaven bent over them, | 8 | ·/˘/···· |
| 'Mid flowers their lithe feet trod, | 7 | ·/˘···· |
| Their lives lay vivid in light, and blest | 9 | ···/˘···· |
| By the smiles of women and God. | 8 | ····/˘·· |
| Again they come! Again I hear | 8 | ˘/··˘/·· |
| The tread of that goodly band; | 7 | ····/˘· |
| I know the flash of Ellsworth's eye | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| And the grasp of his hard, warm hand; | 8 | ········ |
| And Putnam, and Shaw, of the lion-heart, | 9 | ·/˘····/· |
| And an eye like a Boston girl's; | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| And I see the light of heaven which lay | 9 | ······/·· |
| On Ulric Dahlgren's curls. | 6 | ·/˘/˘· |
| There is no power in the gloom of hell | 9 | ···/····· |
| To quench those spirits' fire; | 7 | ···/˘/˘ |
| There is no power in the bliss of heaven | 9 | ···/····/ |
| To bid them not aspire; | 6 | ····˘/ |
| But somewhere in the eternal plan | 9 | ·/···˘/˘· |
| That strength, that life survive, | 6 | ····˘/ |
| And like the files on Lookout's crest, | 8 | ·····/·· |
| Above death's clouds they strive. | 6 | ······ |
| A chosen corps, they are marching on | 9 | ·/˘···/˘· |
| In a wider field than ours; | 8 | ··/˘··/˘ |
| Those bright battalions still fulfil | 8 | ··˘/˘··· |
| The scheme of the heavenly powers; | 9 | ····/˘˘/˘ |
| And high brave thoughts float down to us, | 8 | ········ |
| The echoes of that far fight, | 7 | ·/˘···· |
| Like the flash of a distant picket's gun | 10 | ·····/˘/˘· |
| Through the shades of the severing night. | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| No fear for them! In our lower field | 8 | ·····//· |
| Let us keep our arms unstained, | 8 | ···/˘·˘/ |
| That at last we be worthy to stand with them | 11 | ·····/˘···· |
| On the shining heights they've gained. | 8 | ··/˘···˘ |
| We shall meet and greet in closing ranks | 9 | ······/˘· |
| In Time's declining sun, | 6 | ··˘/˘· |
| When the bugles of God shall sound recall | 10 | ··/˘····/· |
| And the battle of life be won. | 8 | ··/˘···· |
The reader shows the same poem with its rhymes coloured and a stress row above each line, the notes beside their stanzas, and any word's definition on a tap; the analysis page takes the whole book apart. How every part of this site was made.