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.