WITH its cloud of skirmishers in advance,
 With now the sound of a single shot, snapping like a whip, and now an
 irregular volley,
 The swarming ranks press on and on, the dense brigades press on;
 Glittering dimly, toiling under the sun--the dust-cover'd men,
 In columns rise and fall to the undulations of the ground,
 With artillery interspers'd--the wheels rumble, the horses sweat,
 As the army corps advances.