BATTLE BUNNY BY Bret Harte

After the men were ordered to lie down, a white rabbit, which had been hopping hither and thither over the field swept by grape and musketry took refuge among the skirmishers, in the breast of a corporal." Report of the Battle of Malvern Hill, 1864.

Bunny, lying in the grass,
Saw the shining column pass;
Saw the starry banner fly,
Saw the chargers fret and fume,
Saw the flapping hat and plume-
Saw them with his moist and shy
Most unspeculative eye,
Thinking only, in the dew,
That it was a fine review-
Till a flash, not all of steel,
Where the rolling caissons wheel,
Brought a rumble and a roar
Rolling down that velvet floor,
And like blows of autumn flail
Sharply threshed the iron hail.

Bunny, thrilled by unknown fears,
Raised his soft and pointed ears,
Mumbled his prehensile lip,
Quivered his pulsating hip,
As the sharp vindictive yell
Rose above the screaming shell;
Thought the world and all its men-
All were charging squadrons meant-
All were rabbit-hunters then,
All to capture him intent.
Bunny was not much to blame:
Wiser folk have thought the same-
Wiser folk who think they spy
Every ill begins with "I".

Wildly panting here and there,
Bunny sought the freer air,
Till he hopped below the hill,
And saw, lying close ad still,
Men with muskets in their hands.
(Never Bunny understands
That hypocrisy of sleep,
In the vigils grim they keep,
As recumbent on that spot
They elude the level shot).

One - a grave and quiet man,
Thinking of his wife and child
Far beyond the Rapidan,
Where the Androsaggin smiled-
Felt the little rabbit creep,
Nestling by his arm and side,
Wakened from strategic sleep,
To that soft appeal replied,
Drew him to his blackened breast,
And-
But you have guessed the rest
Softly o’er that chosen pair
Omnipresent Love anc Care
Drew a mightier Hand and Arm,
Shielding them from every harm;
Right and left the bullets waved,
Saved the savior for the saved.
Who believes that equal grace

God extends in every place,
Little difference he scans
"Twist a rabbit’s God and man’s.

The Civil War calls up memories and sounds of the battle cries for individual freedom. Not now. Now the march to progressivism (socialism) has begun. Long may its banner not wave. The socialists for Obama around the age of 20 content themselves with the knowledge that they have feelings and ‘heart’ for their fellow man, not wanting special individuals to get rich. Those progressives for Obama in their 40's either pay no taxes or have abandoned rational thinking. At the senior level, those dependent upon the government for their livelihood have also pitched their tents in the camp of Obama. When only 40% of Americans pay any taxes and another 11% pay less than 5% or $1,000 it’s obvious that "equal grace ... in very place " has been lost in the battle for life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness and truth, justice and the American way.