Up the street came the rebel tread,   
Stonewall Jackson riding ahead.   
   
Under his slouched hat left and right   
He glanced: the old flag met his sight.   
   
"Halt!"—the dust-brown ranks stood fast,   
"Fire!"—out blazed the rifle-blast.   
   
It shivered the window, pane and sash;   
It rent the banner with seam and gash.