Click in the field, then press CTRL+C to copy the HTML code
<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=345807" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Red Zouave</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">The stars were bright, the breeze was still,<br>The cicada and the whippoorwill,<br>Alone disturbed the scene;<br>A streamlet down the dark ravine,<br>Hasted the gloomy spot to shun,<br>And bear its little tribute to Cub Run.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The wayward step of one astray,<br>He scared the whippoorwill away.<br>A soldier reels to the little rill,<br>And tries his sordid cup to fill,<br>Then dizzily pitches across the branch,<br>Too weak his mortal wound to staunch.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He wakes anon, but weaker yet,<br>For the stones with his oozing gore is wet,<br>Feebly he feels for his stolen store,<br>In his shirt, made redder by his gore!<br>But long ere the midnight cloud grows dark,<br>The Red Zouave lies stiff and stark.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Why did the dying miscreant stare?<br>Why stood upright his clotted hair?<br>He sees a phantom sentinel,<br>A skeleton-man and musket as well,<br>And the ghostly cry, Halt! who goes there?<br>Made his glazing eyeballs wildly glare.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The sentry's laugh was shrill, yet brief,<br>Ere he spoke these words to the dying thief:<br>'I left old England long years ago,<br>Where I plundered and plundered both high and low;<br>To escape at once from my crimes and fears,<br>I enlisted with Braddock for seven years.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'We crossed the sea and we cut a road,<br>Where there never had been a christian abode,<br>On our march, we encamped on a wooded height;<br>You lay at the very same place last night;<br>I stole from a comrade a half a crown,<br>And was whipped as a thief, till the blood ran down.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'I swore for revenge as we marched along;<br>The jeers of the men made my vengeance strong:<br>So Braddock I marked, when we lost the fight,<br>And shot him through ere I took to flight;<br>I wandered this terrible wilderness through,<br>And died of my wounds here, as you will do.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Though I saw our Sergeant-Major fall,<br>By some hidden Indian's rifle ball,<br>Yet plainly I heard him say, 'Murderer! Thief!<br>Stand sentinel here, till Hell sends you relief;<br>You shall challenge the panther, who prowls for his prey,<br>You shall challenge the savage and fright him away.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">''You shall challenge the bat as he wheels -<br>On his flight - and the serpent that steals -<br>By your desolate post. Without fail<br>You shall halt! the storm, wind and hail.<br>[As they whistle and drift through your marrowless bones,]<br>And the turbulent stream, in its rush o'er the stones.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Then I shrank in my terror and asked in my grief,<br>How long will it be, ere you send my relief?<br>Then the spectre cursed me again and again,<br>For he seemed to delight in my mortal pain:<br>'I will tell you,' he said, 'assassin and thief,<br>When Hell will turn out your sentry relief.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">''Over Braddock's road, will pass a throng,<br>Better armed than our army and tenfold as strong.<br>Over Braddock's road, will drift the same day,<br>The wreck of that army, fleeing away.<br>And Braddock's defeat is forever forgot,<br>In the tenfold more shameful rout of Scott.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">''You will see a wounded miscreant run<br>From the battle-field, without firing a gun;<br>He has robbed a dead comrade and driven his blade,<br>Through his officer wounded, and begging for aid;<br>He will die on this rock, and his infamous ghost,<br>Will relieve you (a century hence) on this post.''</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then the skeleton musket and ramrod rang,<br>On the rock with the Zouave's dying pang,<br>And soon the morning sun gleamed fair,<br>On his pallid brow and his shaven hair<br>Whilst his stiffened fingers closely hold<br>A picture fair and a piece of gold,<br>[And the picture smiled and the red gold shone,<br>As they did in the eyes that first called them their own.]</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Now creep to the edge of that dark ravine,<br>And say what those ghostly voices mean, <br>A nice and transcendental ear,<br>This dialogue then very plainly hear:</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Zouave. Halt! who comes here to cross this line?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Bravo. Friend with the pass-word and countersign.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Zouave.Friend with the countersign advance.<br>He knew his ghostly friend at a glance.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Bravo. No sentinel posted will ever again,<br>Here the countersign, 'Braddock.' or the pass-word, 'Duquesne.'<br>Each spectre must give, as he passes this spot,<br>The parole of dishonour, 'MANASSAS and SCOTT.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Anonymous+Americas">Anonymous Americas</a><div class=q>
<img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share">
<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=345807" data-title="The Red Zouave de Anonymous Americas" data-description="The stars were bright, the breeze was still,
The cicada and the whippoorwill,
Alone disturbed the scene;
A streamlet down the dark ravine,
Hasted the gloomy spot to shun,
And bear its little tribute to Cub Run.

The wayward step of one astray,
He ..."></div>
</div>
</div>