U BRARY of CONGRES S

Two Cooies Rece ived

FEB 2 7 1909Copy rizn t Entry

LI! S S

I “XXC. NO!

C O PY B .

C o py right 1 9 09B y Ge o rge P o rn r o y .

INDEX .

A Flag o f Truce

A M other ’s Pride

Al l the Summer

Balm from Gi l ead

Benny ’s Repentance

B e Samps o n Like

Bird o f Jove

B itter Waters

Border Song

Bronze an d M arbl e

C olumbia ’s Flag

C ome Back Wi ld Bird

C ome , C ome , C ome

Down to the S ea

Dying S o Young

Fame

Flowers fo r the Dead

Fo r Fatherl and

Heaven ’s Ro l l C al l

Hesperi des

H ow Often , 0 H ow O ften

INDEX — Con tinued.

Long Ago

M anassas

M emorial Hymn

M i ss Helen Gray

M orn ing Hymn

M others Wi l l Weep

M ustered Ou t

Nat ive Land

On the Skirmish Line

Ou r Ban-n e t

Outward Bound

Passion

Past and Present

Peace and War

Revei l l e

S ing Bi rd

Somebody’s Boy M ust Go

Sons of Veterans

The Bal ls That M is sed

The Battle Field

The C ourt’s Decree

INDEX —Continued.

The D rummer B oy

The Exi le

The Fie ld o f White C lover

The Last M arch

The Las t Parade

The Last Tattoo

The L i ly

The N ew Recru it

The Outcast

The Shel ter Tent

The Ve terans

Tocsin o fWar

Vicksburg

Wardship o f the Union

Weep , M aidens Weep

When the Batt l e ’sOver

Why S ing o f War

HESPERIDES .

Fair garden of Hesperides !We b less the far old centuri esFor keeping thee , the earth

’s de l ight ,Long h i dden ~ in the dreamy nightOf l egend as enchanted realm ,

Ti l l ship had pi lot at the helm .

The ancient race of men were wiseAs wisdom seems to ch i ldren ’s eye s ;Their golden age was fruitfu l themeFor sage and seer ’s romantic dream ,

And round thei r dim forgotten pastA rainbow-colored halo cast .

Beyond their own fami li ar strand ,The world was al l a wonder landOf realms with fabl ed groves and streamsAs pictured to the ir waking dreamsAnd fairest

,and most famed of these

,

Was garden of Hesperides .

Great nature ’s work their m inds so awed ,They made each hidden power a god

,

Ti l l mountain , grove , fai r i s l e and sea ,Have each thei r patron deity ;All these d ivin iti es had mates

,

And al l were subj ect to the fates .

Whi l e wandering from place to place,

The roving clans left l i tt l e traceOf path or foot-print on the way

,

St i l l l ess of monument or sway .

U n ti l from home in cave and tentRose empires of the ori ent .

Then by the blue Aegean ’s t ide ,And where the Tiber ’s waters gl ide ,Wise orac les from sacred shrineC ame s anct ified by l ips divine ;Then shouts of victory resoundFor war’s triumphan t vi ctor crowned .

The bui lders of the nation ’s toi lFor rude barbarian to Spoil ;The nigh t of empires with i ts gloomM akes dark the buri ed kingdom ’s tomb ;Whi le on and on the ages rol lAs knel l of centuri es they tol l .

The morn ing dawns , the weary earthBeholds a new renaissance ’s birth ;Bold mariners have now b egunFar voyage toward sett ing sun ,And soon wi l l reach long fabled realm ,

For ship has pi lot at the helm .

C olumbia, thou wert the cl imeD reamed of by those of o lden time ;Thy hi l l

,and vales

,bright crystal streams

Reveal the secret of the ir dreams ;The vei l i s l ifted , we beholdThe scro l l of my s t r i e s unrol l ed .

B RON ! E AN D MARB LE .

Bronze and marble retain awhileC ast of features , or frown , or sm i le ;Bu t the ages wi th sharp tooth gnawHere a blem ish and. there a flaw ;While the cen tur ies st i l l prolongM easure and chorus of martia l song .

C old are the l ips of brass and stone ,Passion less their mute monotone ,And the burden of their appealWak ing emotions they do not fee l ;Whi le the dwel lers in every c l imeAre thri l l ed by the strains of heroic rhyme .

Few the lessons dumb statues teach ,Narrow range has thei r s i lent speech ,Armless gods with a stump of l imb ,S ightless eyes wi th thei r vision dimTel l the story of pagan art,But pagan bard sti l l thri l ls the heart .

FAM E .

Life has i ts brightest starIn high ascendant

,

When Fame ’s triumphal carRol l s on resplendent .

Glory i s brightest wreathIn honor ’s c luster

,

Al l others pale beneathIts bri l l iant luster .

C l arion ’s wi ldest noteM orning and even

,

Paeans and prai ses floatUpward to heaven .

Bui ld h igh a marble fane,

Over i ts portalGrave ,

“treasure al l are vainFame i s immortal . !

1 0

PAST AN D PRE SENT .

Whi l e fame and glory ’s trophies castA mel low luster o ’er the past ;The present age , for loving careOf thi s r ich luster , claims a share .

The red fires kindled long ago ,Would now be quenched or smolder low,

Did not fond memory del ightTo keep these sacred fires bright .

I t i s the gratefu l hearts that bringW i th holy zeal thei r offering ;Whi l e fervid l ips in song and layThei r soft ly cadenced tribute pay .

The l iving, not the dead , revereThe monuments and shrines they rear ;Wh i l e trophied arch and dome above

,

Are emblems of a nation ’s love .

1 1

FOR FATHERLAND .

For father’ land our s i res once roseIn maj esty of though t and deed ,Against oppress ions cruel creedAgainst the host of freedom ’s foes ;For father- land they braved war’s t i de ,For sake o f father- land they died .

Shal l we thei r sons be now less leal ,Ou r arm l ess strong, our hearts less bold !0 ! no , more sacredly we holdAbove our l ives , our coun try

’s weal ;For fath er-land shal l be our cry,For sake o f father-land we ’ l l di e .

O ! ski es above , O ! mo ther earth !M ore dear ly now when dangers come,And threaten heri tage and home ,We love the land that gave us bi rth

,

C ome freeman al l j oin heart and handFor l iberty and father-l and .

1 2

NATIVE LAND .

Love burns in every bosomWith faint or warmer glow,

I ts flames reach up to heavenFrom fires l i t here below ;Love has i ts shrines and altarsOn every i sl e and strand ,But hol i est , sweet incenseGoes up from nat ive land .

Dear native land we s ing thy praiseAt rosy morn and even ,And may the music of our laysFrom home and hal l and lone by -waysB e wafted up to heaven .

No c l ime however sunny,Or in whatever zone ,Has gl ebe so dearly cherishedAs fields our hands have sown ;

No groves , no grassy meadowsHave such a cheerfu l band,

As songsters whose glad chorusGoes up from native land .

Let ch i ldren read the storyOf deeds thei r si res have done ,And learn from song and anthemHow freedom ’s cause was won ;So they wi l l fee l the rapture ,And ever know how grandA heri tage

,and precious

,

I s home and nat ive land .

Dear native land we sing thy praiseAt rosy morn and even ,And may the music of our laysFrom home and hal l and lone by -waysBe wafted up to heaven .

1 3

WH Y SING OF WAR !

Why s ing of batt l e fie lds and war,Loud tramp of marching feet,Of glory ’s flaming, red , red star ,Of triumph and retreat !While themes o f more endearing songI f tuned by minstre l ’s art ,Would wake a far diviner throngOf feel ing in the heart .

Were l i fe a dear , del ightful trance ,A sweet romanti c dreamOf fond angel i c dal l i anceBy love-enchanted stream ;And were the fie r ce r passions chainedTo kind aff ection ’s car

,

The fields would al l be left unstained ,Nor fee l the tread of war .

But roused by j ealousy or dreadOf bo ld usurper ’s c laim ,

Or fo r dominion blindly ledBy greedy lus t of fame ;The fu r i e s t of the heart , deep hate ,Revenge and rage set free ,

Rush on l ike beasts of prey to sateThe i r wanton cruelty .

Then earth a l l stained with b lood and crimeOf kinsman and o f clan ,Would need no minstre l sy to rhymeThe brotherhood of man ;But love , and pity dewy-eyed ,And mercy, s isters three ,Turn wrath and enmity asideWi th branch from o l ive tr ee .

1 4

In ful lness of great sorrow li esSubl im i ty of woe ,And sweetest tears from saddest eyesDown pal l id cheeks wi l l flow

,

When their bereavements is for s i resAnd sons they freely gaveTo battle ’s sacrificial fires ,The coun try ’s l i fe to save .

Now peaceful years on shin ing wingFor hearts forlorn and sad ,

On each returning j ourney bringSweet balm from Gi l ead ;

And blood -ano inted batt l e-fie ldWi th monument and mound ,Becomes, when war

’s red wounds are healed ,Dear, consecrated ground .

1 5

B IRD o n JOVE .

Alone and far above,Where none h i s j oy or sorrow ever knowW i th loath ing scorn of al l that crawl be low

S its!B i rd of Jove .

The rock w i th ages hoar,And neares t to the sky i s h i s abodeThe l ightn ing plays along the trackless roadUp to i ts door .

There i s maj est i c gloomAround the craggy turrets of hi s home ;

C elest ial fires that blaze in heaven ’s b lue domeIts hal ls i l lume .

No gates with forged locks bar,

For never foe can there rude entrance press,

And never guest or friend comes near,unless

A fal l ing star .

No sound save h i s wild cryI s ever heard to break the si lence deep ,Unless the thunder wakens from its s leep ,To make reply .

Smal l pi ty and less loveFor those who sigh and quake wi th chi ld ish fearAnd battl e danger with a fal l ing tearHas bird of Jove .

Wel l may proud nations bearHis image on their standards far and wide ,He i s fit emblem of thei r hate and prideIn peace and war .

1 6

https://www.forgottenbooks.com/join

COM E, COM E, C OME .

From the morn ing ’s early dawn ti l l the eveningshadows fall ,

C omes the warning sound of loud alarm ing drum ;E very beat a message te l l s

,every note repeats the

cal lS aying come and save the country, freeman come .

C horusC ome , come , come the drums are beating ,Harken freeman to the cal lFor the country i s betrayed ,

“

And unless you haste to aid,

E ven l iberty may perish in its fal l .

All the sacred memories cl inging round the nation ’sbi rth

,

Lend the ir whisper to the musi c of the drumAl l these years with glory crowned shedding luster

on the earth ,W ith thei r unseen l ips now shout the chorus

,come .

All the hopes of men enthral l ed and of bondmeneverywhere

Rise to gladness at the echo of the drum ;S tormy winds and gentl e breeze from the far-o ff

dwel lers bear

Joyfu l answer to the invocati on , come .

G ent le mercy pleads for peace , but her prayers areal l in vain ,

For the swel l ing notes of loud alarming drum ,

Beating up the march and charge,answers back

with wilder strain ,S aying come a mighty host for triumph , come .

1 8

Now the dwel lers by the sea , and on sunny glebeand plain ,

All have heard the sound of loud alarming drum ,

And their mighty tramp i s heard , and thei r songwith i ts refra in ,

For our country and our banner now we come .

C horusCome , come , come the drums are beating,Har ken freemen to the cal l ,For the country i s betrayedAnd un less you haste to aid ,

Even l iberty may perish i ts fa l l .

1 9

BORDER SONG.

Led by the star of empireFrom many a distant home ,To l ive and dwel l in KansasThese pioneers have come ,Their cab ins and sod housesSeem palaces to them ,

E ach c la im'

a l i tt le kingdom ,

And hope thei r diadem .

Just l ike the pi lgrim fathersThei r banners once unfurledUpon the cold and barren ,Bleak coast of the new world ;

So these thei r sturdy chi ldrenHave come with hopefu l dream ,

To make the desert blossomAnd with abundance teem .

Not l ed by wild ambi ti on ,But peaceful ly they comeTo seek man ’s highest b less ing,A hearth-stone and a home ;Like these the wi ld sunflowerI ts mission once begun ,

At morn bows to Aurora,At eve to sett ing sun .

But c louds begin to lower ,B lack thunder-c louds of war ,Their gloom has vei l ed the friendlyLight of the morning star ;

And there i s caut ious whi sperWhen fri ends and ne ighbors meet,Whi le rumors wi ld go fl i tt ingAlong the vi l lage street .

The powder-horn and shot-pouchHang up against the wal lWith greasy bul let-patchesCu t ready for the bal l .

20

And in the chimney cornerAbove the corn-meal sack

,

The tri ed and trusty rifleHangs in its wooden rack .

But now the clans are ri s ingFrom every squatter ’s home

,

To drive back the invadersThe sons of freedom come ;For al l a long the borderBy dark M i ssouri ’s floodI s smoke of burning cabin ,And verdure stained wi th blood .

The plow stands in the furrow,

The fields unp lanted l i eAround the squatter ’s cab inThe weeds are rank and high ;The prairi e—hen s its broodingBeneath the wi ld rose tree ,

No chi ldren ’s merry voicesD i sturb her with thei r glee .

The confl i ct long in com ingI s here , and now begun ,These frontier ’s men for freedomHave fired the s ignal gun ;

And its far sound wi l l echoFrom mountain back to sea,Unti l i ts mighty thunderBrings in the j ubi l ee .

I t IS the same old storyRung down with lengthen ed chime ,These squatters hear its musi c,And answer with their rhyme ;

“Ours shal l be land of freedom ,

Nor shal l the gal l ing chainO f s lavery go clankingUpon the Kansas plain .

21

REVEILLE .

Now the drummer boy i s beatingWhi l e the morning yet i s d im

,

Notes the shri l l fife i s repeatingOf the sold ier ’s matin hymn .

Revei l l e,Revei l l e ;

Wh i l e the sergeant stands repeatingTo the cadence of the hymn ,

Revei l le , Revei l le .

Not l ike summons to the batt l eNor for combats qui ck arrayI s the measure and the ratt leOf the l ive ly matin lay,

Revei l l e,Revei l l e ;

Wake from dreaming says the ratt l eOf the soldi er ’s matin lay .

Revei l le,Revei l le .

Bu t the battl e leaves the numberOf the comrades less each t ime ,Who are wakened from thei r slumbersBy the music of th e rhyme ,

Revei l l e,Revei l l e ;

For the dead wake not from slumberAt the music of the rhyme ,

R eve i l le,Revei l le .

22

THE LILY .

The l i ly, what a royal gemTo deck the summer bowersThe fairest , richest diademOf al l among the flowers .

I ts c lass i c mold and symmetryE xce l arts best endeavors

,

The beau ty of its bloom wil l beA j oyfu lness forever .

The poets wreathe i t in thei r hymnWhen they divinely warbl e ;Around the goblets carved rimIt blooms in sculptured marbl e .

The l i ly ’s legendary fameC ame down along the ages ,Unti l the luster of i ts nameFlashed from historic pages .

I t i s an embl em , chosen wel l ,Of love l iness and glory,But lends the magic of i ts spel lTo sacred song and story .

23

OUR B ANNER.

E very nation has i ts standard though they differmuch in hue ,

But the banner of our country is most beauti fu l to! i ew ;

S tripes of red , and white the pures t, then a field ofazure b lue,

Where stars shine night and day .

C horusBright ly, brightly on our banner,Bright ly, brightly on our banner ,Brightly , bright ly on our banner,The stars shin

!

e n ight and day .

I t i s l iberty’s glad emblem to al l peop l e in distr ess ,And the glory of i ts miss ion is to com fort and to

bless ;Never shal l its folds be tarnished , never wi l l be

luster less ,Where stars shine n igh t and day .

Tyranny and hoary thral ldom from thei r throneswere quickly hurled ,

Then a shout went up to heaven for the freedom ofthe wor ld ,

And the nations hai l ed i ts coming when our bannerwas unfur l ed

Where stars sh ine nigh t and day .

Toilers weary of Oppression in their homes beyondthe seas ,

Patriots in their devot ion , holy men upon theirknees ,

C rave a bless ing on our banner as i t floats uponthe breeze,

Where stars sh ine n ight and day .

24

https://www.forgottenbooks.com/join

MANASSAS .

Now they comeWh i l e the drum

Beats for solemn massesThere ’s defeatAnd retreat

And sad rout at M anassas .

All the yearsW ith the ir tears

Wives and loving lasses ,Near and farW i l l mourn for

The dead ki l led at M anassas .

Now the floodOf red blood

Darkens as it passes ,In its tideDeep and wide

From Sumpter to M anassas .

M e n in blueHave marched through

Swamp and dark morasses ,To regainWithout stain

The flag lost at M anassas .

Le t al l comeWh il e the drum

Beats for solemn masses,

And forgetTo regret

The day lost at M anassas .

26

TOC S IN OF WAR .

Let the brazen trumpets warn ing b lastBe borne afar,

Flaming on red wings and flying fastAs fa l l ing star,

So each ham let , town , and city passedM ay arm for war .

Hear i ts voi ce ye dwel lers by the seaOn either s ide ,

Ye who dwel l upon the sunny leaOf prairie W ide,

Or where ’er your hab itations beOr ye abide .

Arm ye for war’s mighty tempest hathI ts wings out-spread ,

And i s moving with i ts pent up wrathJust overhead ,

But wi l l soon descend and make its pathWi th courage red .

Liberty ’s fair heri tage has needOf heart and hand

S teadfast in th i s hour of shaken reedon quaking strand '

Loyal too in sent iment and deedFor nat ive land .

27

SOM EB ODY’

S B OYS MUST GO .

Opening the book the father,Just before he read

C hapters for the morning lesson ,To h is household saidI f the war goes on why somebody ’sBoys wi l l have to goTo defend the flag and unionThreatened by the foe .

I f the war goes on why s o embo dy’

s

Boys w i l l have to goTo defend the flag and unionThreatened by the foe .

When the country is in dangerDuty bids al l come

,

Then must love and fond aff ectionsLips be mute and dumb ;I f the war goes on I reckonBoys you ’ l l have to go ,I can manage with the farmingWork ing kind of s low .

I f the war goes on why somebody ’sBoys wi l l have to go ;Friends wi l l cheer them on when partingThough hot tears wi l l flow .

Providence has ways of scourgingNations for thei r wrong,

W ith foul pest i l ence and fam ineAnd with bloody thong ;Fathers sometimes l eave beh ind themDebts the ir sons must pay

,

Looks some this ri sing tempestHas come round that way .

28

I f the war goes on why somebody’sBoys wi l l have to go,So no shout of song can heraldTriumph of the foe .

Thou great Ruler of the nationsWe wi l l trust in thee ,As o u r l eader in the confl i ctAnd for victorySoon as they begin en l ist ingBoys y o u both must go,

On e at home , and one’way fighting

Wouldn ’t do you know .

I f the war goes on why somebody’sBoys wi l l have to go

,

Some wi l l come back, others neverWi l l come back you know .

29.

TH E OUTCAST .

He was an outcast i n the landWhere he had dwelt so long,Though he had never rai sed hi s handTo do his fe l low wrong ;But ever strove by word and deed

,

To rend away the crue l creedOf b loody lash and thong .

Oppress ion , tyranny, and thral lOf l imb , or heart , or mind ,Were gr i ev i o u s to h is eyes , an d al lThese seemed wi th gui l t entwined ;And on their foreheads bore the markOf evi l nurtured in the darkO ld ages far behind .

His wrath was kind led when he heardThe holy priest explainThe meaning of the sacred word

,

Then pious ly maintain ,The current of the scripture ranThat one may buy and sel l a man

,

O r bind him with a chain .

Why throng her shrine , he sai d , and crownThe goddess , Liberty,Then in our statute-books wri te downThe infamous decree ,That in whatever kingdom foundThe darker brother shal l be bound

,

The fairer shal l be free .

I s th is the precept,th is the law

Of C hrist , the Nazarene ,Say ,

did he in his teaching drawA l ine of grace betweenThe man possessed of large estate

,

And beggar at the ri ch man ’s gateC overed with sores unclean .

30

O no , i t i s the cruel creedOf wickedness and sin ,Begotten by unholy greedAnd pass ion ’s fou lest kin ,I t dooms the slave to bl indly gropeIn darkness without ray of hope

,

And dwarfs the sou l within .

Hot words wh ich smote as does the bladeOf a two-edged sword ,

Nor were the ir burn ing accents stayedTi l l errors leprous hordeLay shorn of strength and cl ipt of wing,A truth scorched

,l imp and bl ighted th ing

As Jonah’s withered gourd .

Then did the angry multi tudeThis earnest man deride ,And buffet ti l l they had imbuedThei r hands with blood , then cri edLet him who speaks such blasphemy,And so defames the law ’s decreeBe scourged , be crucified .

In every age how i t has beenAccounted as a crime ,And heresy i f one was seenUnsuited to the cl imeIn wh ich he dwelt , or strove to beFrom thral l of supe r s t i t i t i o n free ,Or wise beyond h is time .

In city mart within the soundOf the cathedral bel l ,An eager crowd would gather round ,And men would buy and sel lTheir fe l low man for yel low gold ,Although the solemn church—bel l tol led .

A mournfu l di rge or kne l l .

31

And whi le the fates at hide—and - seekW i th j est and j e er do play,Lo ! dusky mother ’s ki ss the cheekOf dusky babes , and prayThe hand with unsheathed sword can smite ,The blast with pesti lence can b l ightM ay not too long delay .

And there were warnings , seers foreto ldOf rivers red with b lood ,Whose waves would bury as they rol ledArmed hosts beneath thei r flood ;And prophets dreamed of war ’s wi ld rage,Of funeral s and orphanage,And lonely widow-hood .

On e early morn the sl eeper wokeFrom dream ’s del ightfu l charm ,

To hear a voi ce which loudly spoke ,! ui ck arm ye , neighbor arm ,

That sound l ike thunder from the southC om e s from the cannon ’s brazen mouth ,I t i s war ’s dread alarm .

Then came a sea of fire that sweptO

’

e r p lain and mountainl

h igh ,

I ts flaming wave and b i l low leptFrom earth up to the sky ;And loud above the d in and roarWhich echoed far from shore to shoreWas heard the batt l e cry .

The dead,the dead l i e everywhere

In dismal swamp and fenOn field and hi l l their cold eyes stare,They glut the pri son pen ;But hark , there

’s beat of distan t drum“And ri sing shout

,we come , we come

Fi ve hundred thousand men .

32

https://www.forgottenbooks.com/join

MORN ING HYM N

The portals of heavenHave soft-t inted hue ,

And darkness is changingTo azure and blue .

The cu rtains are parting,

And each lustrous fo ldOf l ight c loud is gleamingWith purple and gold .

Lo , yonder the mountain ,I ts upl i fted spires

Ablaze wi th the gloryOf heaven-l it fires .

Soon green-mantled val ley,Bright hi l l-top and wood

,

And ci ty and hamletWi l l bathe in i ts flood .

The soft l igh t i s break ingAcross the blue lake ,

And wi ld bi rd is cal l ingAwake , love awake .

M y ange l i s s leepingAnd dreams by my side

,

And fair as the morningI made her my bride .

Awake,ye who slumber

,

Ari se , O ari se ,On

'

ear th j oy and gladnessS ent down from the skies .

Now up on the mountain ,And down by the sea ,All kindred are singingBright morning to thee .

34

WARDSH IP OF TH E UNION .

Sacred i s the Union , and its wealTo our wardship has been given ;Shal l we fai l to guard with loyal zealHer itage bequeathed of heaven !

C enturi es of wrong have cursed the earthAnd its fairest regions bl ighted ,

Shal l men falter when they see the worthOf bright beacon fires ligh ted !

Shal l the temple which our fathers reared ,And to freedom consecrated

,

By the ir sons be less reveredO r by foemen desecrated !

Not ti l l every hamlet mourns its dead ,And t i l l p lain and fie ld be gory,

Shal l i t of the country ’s fame be sa id,

Lo ! beho ld it s faded glory !

35

COLUM B IA’S FLAG.

The white upon ou r banner , the luster o f i ts b lue ,All stained with blood t i l l l ike its red they wi l l be

crimson too ;Before our mart ial s logan wi l l cease to echo far,M arch on ti l l C olumbia ’s flag wins back each fal l ing

star .

C horusM arch on , march on to victory, march on ,M arch on t i l l C olumbia’s flagWins back each fal l ing star .

For country and fo r union we throng the tentedfield ,

And have for emblem l iberty emblazoned on ourshie ld ,

Fo r never shal l fou l treason the nat ion ’s glory mar ;Never from C olumbia ’s flag shal l fal l a s ingl e star .

We come not as invaders to p i l lage and destroy,Only our heritage to save our valor we ’ l l employ ;B u t with our blood wi l l ever make red the t ide

of war,Unt i l fai r C o lumbia’s flag wins back each fal l ing

star .

Ou r minstre l sy’s w i ld music has tender strain s ofgrief,

Among our wreaths of laural spray we twine theol ive leaf ;

But dest iny can never our march of triumph bar,But on , t i l l C olumbia

’s flag wins back each fa l l ingstar .

C horusM arch on , march o n to victory, march on ,M arch on t i l l C o lumbia ’s flag wins back each

fal l ing s tar .

36

TH E FIELD OF WHITE C LOVER .

The theme of my song is the fami l iar storyOf love ’s b iding faith and war ’s redder glory ;I t was long time ago , but st i l l the dim shadowRemains in my mind of the elms in the meadow ,

And wood you went through be fore you crossed overThe brook running by the field of white c lover .

Though summer i s bright the autumn wil l fol low ,

And heap the dead leaves o f the wood in the hol lowTo rot and decay, whi le t ime as i t passesM akes old men and women of young lads and lasses ,Who look back across the years and think overThe day they made love in the fie ld of whi te clover .

The sp ringtime had come , and with it the th-rushesC ame back to bui ld nests on the trees red with

b lushesOf blossom that hung l ike a j ewel del ightingThe heart for the hand that does nature ’s fai r wr it

mg ;And with its brigh t fingers bespangl es overThe copse on the hi l l s ide and field of white clover .

Adown by the brook when the soft ai r was ladenWith fragrance of spring walked a youth and a

maiden ,They talked of the flowers and sad wi l lows weeping,And then of the bi rds bui lding nests for house

keeping ;With hope l eading onward thi s lass and her loverThen wandered away through the field of white

clover .

Beyond i n the distance love ’s mansion de l ights them ,

I ts portals fly open , i ts high hal l invi tes themTo en ter and dwel l there where grief i s a stranger ,And sorrow comes not with hot tears to endangerThe j oy of fond lovers whose cup runneth overWith happiness there on the fie ld of white c lover .

37

The next year brough t strike , and sound of thebatt l e

Re -echoing far ’bove the drum ’s fainter ratt l e ;The fie lds went unt i l l ed for the carnage was needingI ts vict ims to redden the country ’s heart bleeding ;And there in the fron t marched the soldi er and

lover,Now charging the foe on the fie ld of white c lover .

Al l day the hot breath of the cannon was breath ingRed flame which encompassed the hosts wi th its

wreath ing,

Unti l i t had crowned hal f each cohorts who l enumber,

As vi ctims al l shrouded for death ’s s i l ent s lum !ber ;Then a pale lurid cloud arose and hung overThe meadow

,and wood , and fie ld of white c lover .

Sad mothers and maidens with hearts wi ld ly beatingHeard al l the loud thunder i ts echo repeat ing

,

And prayed the kind angel of mercy would coverW i th protecting wing son , husband and lover,Ti l l darkness would l et fal l i ts b lack mantle overDeath ’s carnival there on the field of white c lover .

The sun has gone down and the night wind i ss ighing

A requ iem over the dead and the dying ;No campfires smolder

,no sentinel keeping

His night—watch around the s i l ent dead sleeping,And there on his bed l i es the soldi er and lover ,Ki l led in the charge ’cross the field of white c lover .

Borne far through the land on the W ings of themorrow

Are t idings and sad lamentat ions of sorrow ;The hands of the fal len have sent back no tokenOf love , and their cold l ips no farewel l s have

spoken ;And now there i s mourning and sad wai l ing over

38

The loved ones there dead on the field of whiteclover .

The ravens are perched on the elms in the meadow ,

And dark as a cloud fal l s the wood ’s gloomy shadowLi ke wm e i n i t s flow is the brook ’s ruddy waterA l l tinged by the rain-drops that fe l l from the

slaughter,While the b lood of the slain l i es crimson al l overNow staining to red the field of wh ite c lover .

39

PASS ION .

S e e pass ion wi th d i sheveled hair ,Red robed and beauti ful as oneS ent down from heaven above to bearRewards for deeds of mercy done .

Her voice , O what enchanting sound !Her words they seem divinely sweet !The tangles of her web go round ,And we Spel l-bound l ie at her feet .

The po i son of her cup wi l l ri seTo meet the l ips of those who dri nk ;The soft l igh t of her lustrous eyesAre fires that forge the binding l ink .

Wi th softes t phrase she would begui l eWhi le lur ing onward to her thra l l ;Beneath the sweetness of her smi leLie depth of b i tterness and gal l .

40

https://www.forgottenbooks.com/join

DYING SO YOUNG .

The soldi er was young, j ust a stripl ing boy,Cheek l ike a blushing girl ’s ,A mother ’s hand was wont to toyWi th these blood-matted curl s .

C horusBreathing out h is l i fe in the dark cypress wood

,

Dying from a mortal wound ;Breath ing out h i s l i fe whi le hi s dear

,precious blood

M akes crimson red the ground ;Dying so young

,dying so young

,

Dying on the battl e fie ld'

.

Today in the batt l e a blaz ing shel lC ame through the cypress wood ,

R ight down to the ground,and burst ing fel l

Near where th i s soldi er stood .

The dead lying here , and the dying there ,M angled and torn of l imb ,

M ake l ips not use to breathe a prayer,And brave men ’s eyes grow dim ,

But sti l l on the altar of sacrificeOff erings must be laid ;How long, O,

Lord , t i l l the fu l l pri ceOf our atonements paid !

But mother your boy, whi le the gloom of deathI s crowding l i fe ’s feeb le flame ,His pale l ips move , with hi s last breathHe murmurs thy dear name .

C horusBreath ing out h is l i fe in the dark cypress wood ,Dying from a mortal wound

,

Breath ing out hi s l i fe whi le hi s dear , precious bloodM akes crimson red the ground ;Dying so young

,dying so young,

Dying on the battl e fie ld .

42

TH E BATTLE FIELD .

In s lumber deep the mai led and weary sleepersBreathe heavi ly and slow ,

Whi l e wary sentinel s , those watchful keepersOf camp walk to and fro ,

Guarding ton ight death ’s trained and ready reapersWhose harvest i s the foe .

Among the dri fting clouds the late November ’sM oon wanders on its way ,

While fading l ight of smo ld’

r i ng camp fires embersReflect thei r feebl e ray ;

In vi sions bright the soldi er now remembersHis wi ld and boyi sh play .

He dreams of home,and of the ch i ldi sh pratt le

Of ba'bes upon h is knee ,Then wakes to hear the too fami l iar rattleAnd clang of musket ry ,

Then hurri es forth to j oin the rising battl eDark surging l ike the sea .

Now there is tramp. and rush of friend and foeman ,Nor dangers dread nor harm ;

How changed i n mood is yesterday ’s meek yeoman ,At home upon his farm

He hears the sound,and reads aright the omen

Of war ’s sol emn alarm .

Today he treads the crimson path of glory ,And red highway of fame

,

D imming the fai r page of the old world ’s storyOf batt l e ’s din and flame ,

And writing p lain on tablet wet and goryHis own undying name .

43

There ’s'

l ightn ing’s glare and rol l of vo ll i ed thunderAs charging squadrons meet ,

S trewing the ground with dead now trampled underThe war steed ’s iron feet ;

The ranks are thinned and l ines are rent asunderThere ’s onset and retreat .

The earth is dark wi th raindrops of the slaughter,As i f the friend ly sky

Had lack of dew and downfal l of glad waterFor th irsty fie lds and dry ;

And soon wi l l come sad plaint of orphan daughter ,And lone ly widow ’s sigh .

Spectral and white the smoke of the last sal lyM oves s low and lei sure ly,

And rests l ike a pal e cloud above the val l eyIn sad sub l im i ty ,

As if awhi l e its gloom iness would dal lyAs fittest canopy .

The storm i s o ’er, red wave and flaming bi l lowNo longer lash and leap ,

The mangl ed dead on ghast ly bed and pi l lowLie si l ent ly asleep ;

Above thei r graves let shaft and drooping wil lowS acred their valor keep .

In other years the unborn generationsOf s i res who s lumber here ,

Wil l come from far and offer their oblat ionsWith sigh and fal l ing tear ;

Let martia l song, and fame in her orati onsPreserve thei r memory dear .

THE DRUM M ER B OY .

The drummer boy to the war has comeNot to carry a gun on hi s shoulder ,But march in the ranks and ratt l e hi s drumFor tramp of the men who are older ;For there i s need when foemen meetIn war’s tumultuous labor,

Of bugle ’s b last and drum ’s loud beatAs wel l as o f gun and saber .

ChorusO drummer boy when the comrades hearThe sound of your drum ’s loud ratt le ,I ts notes wi l l cheer, as they fal l on the ear,And help win the do ubltfu l batt l e .

And whether you march in the front or rear,

The sound of y our drum wi l l ever .

Have notes so grand, their cadence w i l l cheerOn the men in thei r endeavor .For music ’s strain has a thri l l ing charm ,

The hearts of brave men wil l inspire ,C an c lear the eye , and steady the armAt command of “bat tal l i o n fire .

!

So young—we may not accuse or blameThe mother whose heart would falter,And almost fai l , as with tears she cameWith her offering to the altar ;

H e r l i p i s wet with the honey dewOf his last warm ki sses g iven ;Her prayer to Go d . may

'

her boy be trueTo hi s country and to heaven .

C h!

orusO drummer boy when the comrades hearThe sound of your drum ’s loud ratt l e

,

I ts notes wi l l cheer, as they fal l on the ear,And help to win the doubtful batt l e .

45

S ING B IRD .

S ing bird, but sing as sad a songAs thy fu l l heart can tr i l lFor now l ike autumn leaves alongThe stream beyond the hi l l ,The dead l i e thereWi thout the care

Of pri est to breathe a hymn or prayer .

The even ing breeze now soft and lowLisps i n a minor key,

And for the dead both friend and foeHas saddest m instrel sy ;So le t thy strainAbove the slain

Like moaning wind have sad refrain .

S ing bi rd as i f a loved mate deadInspi red the melody,

The waters of the brook are redS o l et thy anthem beA requiemA dirge for them

C rowned wi th a so ld ier ’s d iadem .

46

TH E EX ILE .

The hi l l s around my father ’s hal lsS ink down into the sea ,And waves rise up in watery wal lsBetwixt my home and me .

The land i s red with precious bloodOf val iant si re and son ;

S t i l l dark and deep the crimson floodWith ris ing tide flows on .

The tyran t wears a haugh ty frown ,His iron hand is strongTo strike al l righ t and j ustice down ,And to upho ld the wrong .

The n ight i s lurid wi th the glareOf torch and m idnight flame .

While ruins b lack l ie everywhereAs monuments of shame .

Above , the blue vaul t of the sky,Below

,the white sea-foam

,

That soon in snowy leagues wi l l l i eBetween me and my home .

’Tis not from craven fear I go,

Or flee from war’s alarm ,

But I would meet the crue l foeAgain wi th stronger arm .

Heroic sons of nobl e s i resWi l l ri se at freedom ’s cal l ,And kind le al l her sacred fires ,O r at her a ltars fal l .

M y nat ive land , my ,

nat ive land !I swear thou shalt be free ,For I wi l l come with chosen bandAnd thine avenger be .

47

ON THE SKIRM ISH LINE .

On e summer day the sun wi th hot fires b lazingWi th scorching rays d id shine ,

Ou r company was s lowly press ing forward’

M ong undergrowth of pine ,And with the wary enemy contendingUpon the skirm ish l ine .

At l ength we reached an open ing in the forest,Where we had plainer viewOf thei r grey uniforms , and they could betterBehold our brigh ter blue ;The firing quickened , and the bu l l ets whizz ingThen fast and faster flew .

Just then the bugle sounded and we haltedNear by a ris ing mound ,

And then a sold ier boy, one of the youngest,S tepped on th is h igher ground ,

And raising up hi s musket aimed and fired ,Then fel l with mortal wound .

The father of the boy was there,and s eeing

His son borne from the field ,Fo l lowed a l i tt l e way then stopped , and turn ing,C ame back with tears concealed ,

And to a comrade said , the father’s duty

M ust to the sold ier’s y i e ld .

48

https://www.forgottenbooks.com/join

B ITTER WATERS .

The bayou ’s bi tter watersWhi ch teemed with crawl ing th ingUpon the marsh was fountain ,And was a l iving spring ;Parched l ips quaff ed from i ts boun ty,Then cursed the off ering .

The ri fl e-pits were safer,

The foe was not unseen ,And should death ’s cup be p rofferedThe beverage was c lean ;While poison rank lay hiddenW i th in these waters green

A l l n ight w i th horr id croak ingThe rebe l frogs would cry,

“Those th irsty yankee sold iersWi l l drink our bayous dry,

Nor care , so they can triumph ,I f we poor frogs al l die .

!

The battl efield has he i'alds ,Whose m i s smn i s to bear

Red carnage through the tempest,And through the l igh tn ing’s glare

,

Nor heed the cry of mercy,

O r l i sten to her prayer .

But not these mart ial reapersAlone the sickle keen

,

Was foe that reaped the harvestSo crows the fie lds might glean

,

For death kept royal banquetW i th wine of s ick ly sheen .

50

VICKSBURG.

Upon her h i l l s fa ir Vicksburg stood ,A c i ty queenly to behold ,Down at her feet and laving ro l l edThe M issi ss ipp i ’s flood .

Dark waved and deep the r iver wideSwept onward to the far south seas ,An d bore her laded argosiesUpon i ts rest less t ide .

And she had rarest gi ft of cl ime ,Of balmy air, and softest blueOf sk ies which deepened in thei r hueTh rough her long summer t ime .

Nor was there need of farther questFo r happiness and joy of home ;Here w eary man might cease to roam

,

And on l i fe ’s j ourney rest .

But now was seen the faintest blotO f cloud to rise that one could spy,

And say the scarcely tarni shed skyWas flecked with cloud or not .

Such meagerness of b lur, a spanWould compass i t from side to s ide ;So smal l a raven ’s wing would hide,Or an unfolded fan .

C ould thi s be omen of alarm ,

O r harb inger of coming stormWhich bore not spectral hue nor form ,

Nor mightiness of arm .

About the time of l enten daysThi s speck of c loud began to Spread

51

I ts gloom and darkness overhead,

And vei l the sun ’s bright rays .

Borne on the north W ind ’s darkened wingAre rumors wi ld of coming stri fe ;Not a rich do wer to the wi feDo these forebodings bring .

But n ightly d reaming of the dead,

And dying on the battl e—fie ld ,

Their unkissed l ips forever sealedWith clammy s ignet red .

And on her cheek there is a stainAs i f a tear ’s unbidden flowFrom the fu l l depths of gri ef belowWas token of her pain .

Now al l i s changed,fair nature ’s face

I s marred to bui ld a parapet ,As if some scheme was lacking yetOf evi l for our race .

The verdant robe and l eafy crownOf b luff and hi l l are gone

,and now

Along thei r seamed and su l len browThe brazen cannon frown .

Young chi ldren ask the reason whyThei r fat hers wear thes e sui ts of grey .

And when they come in from thei r play,

Ask why thei r mother’s cry .

Now there i s beat of m idnight drum,

And chal lenge of the passerby,Say , who goes there ! the qu ick reply,A fri end to thee I come .

52

M en answer to the bugle ’s cal l ,While on the breeze s trange banners floatI n wavy folds above the moat,Above the rampart wal l .

Swift messengers ride to and froAnd fleet as bi rd upon the wing,Look

,now in eager haste they bring

Late t i dings of the foe .

M ay be there’s news of danger n igh ,

Of danger ! no, i t cannot be ,I ts glory, glory, victory,Hear the glad peopl e cry !

Ring loud the bel ls in belfry towers,Let the ir be pean song and shoutThe borders round and land throughout,For Sumpter’s fort i s ours .

Thou blood-sta ined goddess , Victory !How men and nations in their rageFor fame have reddened every pageOf h istory for thee .

But soon wi l l come a sadder strainOf music when the battl e-fie ld

S ends home i ts crimson crop and yield ,Red harvest of the s lain .

War has a fearfu l mien and mood ,And dusky hue of smoke and flameGrie f, orphanage , and want the nameOf i ts i l l-favored brood .

When the th ird summer came the floodOf war ’s fu l l tide was rol l ing near

,

And swifter than it flowed last year,

And redder far with b lood .

53

Was yon quick flash a fal l ing star,

Or the red l ightning on i ts track !

That fearful sound i t s answer back,Or thunder-c lap of war !

Not heaven sent that sudden stroke,

From a far nearer hand i t came ,The storm-c loud ’s forge has fit fu l flame,But not such wreaths of smoke .

“

Wil l it p rove enemy or friendThe dark broad river at thy feet !Lo ! from the north a host i l e fleetComes s lowly roun d the bend .

O city panop l i ed for war !The foe is yonder, now arrayThy trained batal l i o n s for the fray

,

And further triumph bar .

Of r obe and crown and tinsel baredThe proud

,defiant ci ty stands

Wi th sword and l instock in her hands,

For combat d ire prepared

The fragrant breeze now holds its breath,

No note , nor wing of bird i s heard ,S o calm , so sti l l , no leaf i s st irred ,But sti l lness as of death .

Then l ike a dread volcano wakedThe hi l l s belch forth red fires

,the shock

M akes tenement and rampart rock ,As though the earth had quaked .

Fair city al l thy hopes are vain,

In vain the high resolve and deed,

You wil l have for reward and meedB lood of thy chi ldren slain .

5 4

Yon mighty host has li tt l e dreadOf battl e ’s glare and thunder now,

For i t has scarred and battered brow,

And hand with s laughter red .

The ch i e ftan of yon host has comeThe nation ’s mandate to fulfi l l ,Nor wi l l he sheathe th e sword unt i lR ebel l ion ’s l ips are dumb .

From every northern home went upFor peace the people ’s earnest prayer,O Go d , our land from carange spare ,Let pass this b itter cup !

They quaffed the gal l , the goblet broke ,Then came the vintage of red wine ,And now they kneel at war ’s b lack sh r ine ,And its dread Go d invoke .

We hear their cry, make red the waveOf batt l e ’s torrent in thy path

,

And want and famine to its wrath ,On ly the Union save .

We give , O beating heart be sti l l !We g i ve , O weep i ng eyes be clear,We give our sons and brothers dearThe broken ranks to fi l l !

Inspi red by truest loyalty,Thy enemy cannot be stayedBy mortal hand ti l l i t has madeA prison house of thee .

Now lives are counted not as gems ,And j ewels fai rest upon earth

,

But wasted as of l ittl e worthIn war ’s dark s t r at egem s .

55

But now the valor of the foeHas made a fortress of each hi l l ,And battl esh ips dark-visaged fi l lThe river down below .

S uch armamen t might wel l appal lWhen hope seemed scarcely to befri end ;But s ti l l the drama does not end

,

Nor does the curtain fal l .

For weary weeks the cannon ’s breathM akes air and sky above to glow ,

While day and night s trive fri end and foe,Trained champions of death .

Some days the tempest grew less loud,The storm would lu l l

,the thunder cease

As if a ray of hope and peaceShone out from war ’s “black cloud .

The l iving gathered up the deadAnd dying from the field , as menDo gather sheaves at harvest , whenThe evening sun is red .

And then a s ignal gun would breakThe s i lence , a n d this message sent ,R edoubt and fort and battl ementWould al l at once awake .

The grim gun -boats down on the riverWould then take up the awfu l note ,And thunder from each brazen throatUnti l the earth d id quiver .

As i f roused nature ’s fury hathSuch lack of evi ls to bestow ,

That man must make his torments glowWith hot consuming wrath .

56

https://www.forgottenbooks.com/join

B E SAM PSON LIKE .

Woe,woe the man wi th gal l ing load

Of gui lt upon hi s heart to goadH im on , and onward down the roadThat leadeth where ,

No bright winged hope,no longing s igh ,

No prayer ascendeth to the sky,

But one long wai l and bitter cryOf sad despai r .

S top , e’er into the pi t you sink ,

And harken how your forged chains cl ink ;Yea , even on hel l

’s burning brinkBe S ampson l ike ;

And of your l i fe take qui ck controlLook backward to the brighter goal ,And from your heart and prisoned sou l

S in ’s fetters strike .

58

HOW OFTEN , 0 HOW OFTEN .

How often , O how often !We long for j oy to come !And bide wi th us forever

,

And make our heart its home !So when we ask forgiveness ,And crave for holy fare ,Joy may be dai ly b lessingAnd answer to our prayer .

We hope may be the morrowWi l l have the fairest dawn ,And skies of softest lusterWe ever gazed upon .

Then from its m i dday spl endorW i l l sh ine such cheerfu l ray,From our l i fe ’s darkened heavenWi l l drive the c louds away .

But O,how oft and often !

When hope seems rai sing upTo our parched l ips j oys brimm ing

,

Sweet overflowing cup ;Some unseen hand upl i ftedThe go'blet dashes down

,

And ready for it s kingdomThe heart robs of its crown .

59

WHEN THE B ATTLE’

S OVER .

Fa i n te r and fainter grows the thunderO f the batt l e, and i ts breath

C ooler now and nearly wastedB lasts no more the ranks with death ;Lying near a trodden pathwayWhere the ground with blood was redWas a young and wounded soldierWho with painfu l effort said !

C omrade , when the batt le’s over,

And the vanquished foe has fled ,Here you ’ l l find my l ife less bodyWhen you gat her up the dead .

Li fe i s sweet, and I have onlyS een its morning’s pleasing ray

,

Now before its noon-t ime comethC omes to me l i fe ’s c los ing day ;But my country when in dangerC al led to arms and I obeyed,

And I gri eve not , on its al tarM y young l ife i s free ly la id .

l

C omrade, here’s a blood-stained picture

Given with her promise true ,Take it , for death

’s fal l ing shadowsHides her image from my view ;

S end it with my dying blessing,S end it to the one I love ,

Say I’ve gone to jo in the army

Of the angels up above .

C omrade when the batt l e’s over

,

And the vanquished foe has fledHere you ’ l l find my l i fe l ess bodyWhen you gather up the dead .

60

PEACE AND WAR .

We love , O peace , thy paths to treadO

’

e rhu n g with dewy herbs at morn ,They wind among the c lover red

,

And ’ long the rows of t asseled corn ;They lead us through green pastures wideWhere catt l e graze and lambkins play

,

Across the brook whose l impid t ideSings j oyfu l ly it s simple lay .

The harpers of sweet music fi l lOu r bosoms with a calm delight

,

The lark at morn,the whipporwi l l

And l i sping katydid at n ight ;We love the scent of new-made hay

,

And golden sheen of harvest sheafWe linger in a qui et wayAnd watch the fal l of autumn leaf .

The by~ways we so often tread,

The ancient trees along the lane ,And spring with arching elms o

’

e rhead,Are each a l ink in loving chainWhich round our hearts from year to yearWith sweet endearing coi l s has wound ;They bind us to these scenes so dear ,And to the old fami l iar ground .

The j oys of home , the dear -del igh tOf love

’s roman ce beside the hearthM ake morn ing, noon , and make the n ightA paradi se of b l i ss on earth .

And other j oys supreme as theseO Peace , from thy kind bounty fal l !

Among the high divin iti esThou art best Goddess of them al l .

6 1

But wrong grows bold , red crested warStalks forth with brazen armor on ,The bugle sounds i ts blas t afar,And from their scabbards swords are drawn ,Then men rush in through smoke and flame

,

As i f their l ives were given themTo hazzard on the battl e ’s gameFor sake of mart ial requi em .

Of Go d ! why do thy chi ldren rageW i th foamy l ips and flaming breath

,

Why not disease and hoary ageAlone contend and strive wi th death !For though he may awhi le befri endThe one who sm ites h is brother down

,

Death wi l l prove victor in the end ,And c laim at l ast the ! ictor’s crown .

6-2

WEEP , MAIDENS WEEP .

Weep,maidens weep with eyes as sad

As mourning’s deepest gloom ,

Your hopes of yesterday go c ladAnd shroud them for the tomb ;The battlefie ld with blood is red ,Your lovers l ie among the dead .

Weep,maidens weep , war has fi l led up

A lmos t to overflowThe chal ice ful l, l i fe

’s b itter cupOf agony and woe ;

D rain ye the goblet , and then s ighYour l ives away as years go by .

Weep , maidens weep , your tears wi l l bringY ou r burdened hearts rel ief .

And be to love an offering,

A so lace for your grief ;The heart bereaved has clouded sk i esAnd needs swee t rain from weeping eyes .

63

CELESTE .

Bride and bridegroom both were drestIn thei r comel iest array ;Thronged the hal l with wedding guest,Kinsmen young, and k insmen grayWho with merry word and j estSaid they envied me that day

,

E nvied me my bride C e leste .

As the sun sank in t he westC him ing bel l s the t i ding boreHoly priest hath j om ed and blessedHearts true love had j oined before .

Then I pondered—was it bestM ortal on this earth ly shoreShould have bride fair as C e l este .

Her’s was warmest, truest breastE ver heart beat i n —o r b led

,

Softest bosom e ’er was prest ,E ver pi l lowed weary headIn its night ly dream and rest ;C old , now cold that saintly bed ,Bosom of my loved C el este .

64

https://www.forgottenbooks.com/join

A MOTHER’S PRIDE

Ou r eyes are bl ind , we do not seeThe hand that shapes our destiny ;The strange hand-wri ting on the wal lI s dark unti l great sorrows fal lAnd make the meaning understood.

M ay be i t was for h idden goodTo humble low a mother ’s pr ide

,

M y boy fe l l s ick in camp and died .

I was so proud of h im,my heart

Had not a j oy or hope apartFrom which he could not claim a share

,

His happiness was al l my care ;And now the though t

,the memory

Of al l he was and i s to meM ake dear and hol ier ! my pride

,

S ince he fel l s ick in camp and died .

Yes , I was very proud of him ,

For love a mother ’s eyes can dimTo youth ’s l ight flow of pass ing dross

,

And only see its brighter gloss .Be merci fu l , forgive O Go d !I might have blessed , yea ki ssed the rod ,C ould I have gone and knelt besideH is cot and prayed before he d ied .

66

MUSTERED OUT .

I ’m dying, O comrade , but hasten ,

Ou r thinned ranks are yie ld ing I fearWhat sound is that yonder ! O l i stenThe enemy ’s cannot are nea

But hark ! now our guns are replying,

Their thunder grows louder each shot ;Say comrade , i ts j ust as wel l dyingOu t here as on hospi tal cot .

Hasten forward , O comrade , but tarryA moment , I

’

ve something to say,

A message , I hope you wi l l carry,Tel l them of the batt l e today .

My faint heart i s scarcely beatingBut l i sten , they shout , they shout ;Thank Go d , i t

’s the foe that ’s retreat ingLet me now be mu stered out .

67

THE N EW RECRUIT.

Father I am old enough to help fi l l up the ranksWeakened by assau lts upon the rebel front and

fian kS '

All the boys wil l welcome me wi th chorus of thanksC oming to help save the union .

C horus !Hurrah , hurrah , here comes a n ew recru it,Hurrah , hurrah , he looks so resolute ,Drest in regimental s b lue as any yankee ’s sui t,C oming to help save the union .

M any of my school-mates now are learning how toplay

War ’s red game , so they’ l l know how to figh t and

win the day ;Father now I want to go and j oin them in the fray,Wi l l ing to help save the union .

When the charge i s sounded by the bugle ’s wi ldestnote ,

Forward to the batt l ement,across yon deadly moat ,

I wi l l mount the rampart or my young l ife wi l ldevote

Trying to help save the union .

Go , my son , i t i s your duty, go , the country’s weal ,

And the nation ’s honor to our loyalty appeal,

Fathers shou ld thank Go d for sons whose younghearts are so leal

,

Want ing to help save the un ion .

68

Wri te your name , his mother said , within your te stament .

Letter of your company,and of which regiment

,

Heart of sold ier boys have ned of grace for she ltertent

Whi le they are saving the Union .

C horusHurrah

,hurah , here comes a new recrui t ,

Hurrah , hurrah , he looks so resolute ,Drest in regimentals b lue as any yankee suit ,C oming to help save the Union .

69

DOWN TO TH E SEA .

The rebels,the old and decrepi t

,

Too feebl e to carry a gun ,Would say to us b '

oys , make-bel ieving,They said so j ust sort of in funWhy Sherman must sure ly be crazy,O r el se on a mighty big spree ,To think of such madness

,and fol ly,

As marching right down to the sea .

We told them by thunder , he’d do it

,

O r el se l earn some good reason why,

That Sherman was sane , nor go tipsyBy drinking too much of old ryeBut so al l may know it hereafter ,We ’ l l b laze each wi ld j uniper tree ,Put guide-boards with plain Yankee reading

“Here Sherman marched down to the sea .

They asked about Lincoln , remarking ,

He might do for ru ler up north,

But wasn ’t a watch for Jeff Davi sIn planning campaigns and so forth ;Then shaking thei r wise heads they reckonedThat doomsday would most l ikely beWel l on toward noon at SavannahWhen Sherman got down to the sea .

We told them great Lincoln was trulyA giant in wisd om and deed

,

And hated rebel l ion ’s false bannerEm !blazoned with secess ion ’s creed ;And you fel lows wil l know when the darkeysSing songs of the new j ubi l ee

,

That S herman has marched from AtlantaThrough Georgia right down to the sea .

7 0

Now go tel l your brother confederatesWhat we so good hum o r ed ly say ,

S o they can go ’ long, sort of keepingA safe di stance out of the way ;And tel l them so they wi l l not m iss usTo track-up the wi ld honey-beeFor getting a taste of our victual sI t fol lows us down to the sea .

And then for a l esson in morals,

And precepts of loyalty too,

We pointed aloft to our bannerS o fair with its red , white , and blue ;We told them to show to thei r ch i ldren ,And keep for their posterityLand- “marks o f

,thi s highway— and reason ,

Why Sherman marched down to the sea .

7 1

TH E BALLS THAT M ISSED

The wi fe was reading his letter,I t told in a sold ier’s way

About the scenes of the batt l eWas fought j ust the other day .

He told of the dead and wounded ,A thousand or more , and nowO f himsel f, and the many dangersE scaped , Go d only knows how .

The name at the bottom she press ed itC lose to her l ips , ti l l a tearFel l down on the paper and blessed i t ,To love consecrated and dear .

Again it al l i s re ad over,How fool i sh ly , she said , to weep ,He ’s safe , and our cherub , baby,Lies smi l ing there in its s leep

,

Then going toward the bureau,

The letter again she k i ssed,

And said , as she Open the drawer,Thank Go d for the bal l s that missed .

7 2

https://www.forgottenbooks.com/join

BALM FROM GILEAD .

I f there ’s balm st i l l sweet and heal ingIn the ancient Gi l ead ,

C an make whole the broken hearted ,M ake the troubl ed spir it glad ;Load your wings with heal ing balsamO ye winds of O ri ent !And speed hither l ike plumed arrowOn i ts swi ftest m ission sent .

M ourners with sad eyes are weeping,

C heeks with burn ing tears are wet ,And on l ips once soft ly breathingAgony its seal hat h set ;

O the anci ent days how blessedWhen earth ’s weary ch i ldren hadFor their aching hearts and bosomsHeal ing balm from Gi l ead .

Do not tarry at Damascus,

Ye swift coursers of the ai r,We wi l l wait

,wait for your coming

And the goodly gifts you bear ;Then no bosom need have sorrow ,

Never heart again be sad ,When these messengers come bearingHeal ing balm from Gi l ead .

7 4

THE SHELTER TENT.

Faintly the camp-fir e ’

s em bers glow ,

Whi l e rude ly the breezes of autumn blowOver the weary sl eeper ’5 bed ,Wh ich nature ’s own hand has kindly spread ;Sleep

,soldier sl eep , and be content

Wi th ’ dr eam lan d beneath your shelter tent .

S l eep , so ldier , s leep , and be contentWith v isions so brightWhich charm and del ight

In dreamland beneath your shelter tent .

Visions of home and memoriesOf meadow and field wi th thei r clumps of treesBorne on the wings of dear de l ight

,

C ome gladden the slumberer ’s heart tonight ;Rest , sold ier rest , bright dreams are sentThe soldier beneath hi s shelter-tent

Rest , so ld ier rest , bright dreams are sentAs visions to cheerW i th memori es dear

The soldi er beneath hi s shelter-tent .

Shou ld you be spared to bo back home ,When shadows of night vei l the sky ’s high dome,Far from the scenes of war and stri feAsleep by the side of your dear wife ,Dream

,comrade dream of nights you spent

W i th on ly the sky for a shelter-tent .

Dream , comrade dream , of night you spen tAnd pi l lowed your headOn nature ’s own bed ,

Wi th only the sky for a shelter-tent .

7 5

TH E LAST PARADE .

I t seems long t ime s ince we beganOu r first our forward marchWar ’s crimson tide with peace to span ,And with unbroken arch .

Wi th freedom ’s temple now comp leteFrom pedestal to dome ,Our country ’s thankfulness w i l l greet .And welcome us back home .

The union ’s saved , our work i s done ,No longer war alarms ,With victory and triumph wonWe ’re ready to stack arms .

Tonight there ’ l l be no counters ign ,No grand rounds wi l l be made ;

M arch proudly to the co lor l ineThis is our last parade .

When the redeemed in heaven beginTheir songs of glory, men ,

M ay we be there and al l fal l in ,And not break ranks again .

7 6

THE LAST MARCH .

Now our last march i s over,And our last paradeWith the brave o ld battal ionToday has been made ;No camp-fir e s wil l smoulderW i th gl immering l ight ,

Nor sent ine l guardingWil l chal l enge to-nigh t .

We have tented together,And our parched l ips have been

Often moi stened with waterFrom the same canteen ;When the musketry ratt l edAnd the grim cannon pe aled ,We have dared death togetherOn the red battl e-fie ld .

Now the day of our partingDear comrades has come ,And the loved ones are wai ti ngTo welcome us home ,Where brown

,sunburnt faces

W i l l banish the fears,

That have fi l l ed aching bosomsAl l these long dreadful years .

Weary marches behind usAnd soun d of the drumBrighter j ourneys before usInviting to come ,Where the song of the wi ld-birdIn meadow and grove

,

Wil l be sweet tender anthemOf peace and of love .

7 7

TH E VETERANS .

Now their l imbs are feeble ,And the ir step i s s low,

But they marched with steadyTramp toward the foe ,When the cannon thunderedAnd the musketryJoined its mighty chorusTo the batt le ’s glee .

Up from earth to heavenRose the tempest ’s wai l ,Flashed the batt l e ’s l ightningRained the iron hai lDeath above triumphantRode upon the gal e ,

Gloat ing o ’er the bloody

Foot—prints on the trai l .But they never faltered

,

Never wavered whenThe command was given ,Forward , forward men .

C harge the front l ine yonder,C harge—then bayonet

Gl eamed as i t was lowered ,Then with blood was wet .

From the storm of battl e ,Through the leaden rainThey brought back the bannerS aved , and without stain ;And with brighter lusterThan i t ever wore .

S acred , and far dearerThan it was before .

7 8

Now!

the rear-guard onlyI s left on this s ide

Of death ’s s i l ent river,And it waveless t ideVanguard of the columnHas gone on before ,

C amping over yonderOn the other shore .

7 9

M EMOR IAL HYM N .

In the grave calmly s leep heroes al l,

Ti l l the sound of the trumpet shal l cal lThe assembly of hosts in the sky,Where the banners of peace ever flyOn the battl ements round the whi te throne

Let a song now be sung whi l e we standRound the graves of that patri ot bandWho have gone in advance on before

,

As vanguard to the rest of the corpsM arching on with qui ck step in the rear .

Let a prayer now be said whi le we kneelS o the balm of its bl ess ing may healWounded hearts of their sorrow and pain ;For the clanking of love ’s broken chainI s st i l l heard everywhere in the land .

When you come with your wreaths soft ly treadRound thei r graves , sacred graves of the dead ;C ome as mourners who weep for the dearHonored sons of the land sleeping here ,Where no sentine l ’s chal l enge i s heard .

Bring your gifts of sweet flowers and layOn each grave a bright garland today ,In remembrance and love of them al lWho have gone at the mandate and cal lOf the m ighty arch—angel of Go d .

M ay the servi ce so so l emn todayBe a lesson remembered alway

,

And become of such last ing renownAs to be year by year handed downTo the far generations unborn .

80

https://www.forgottenbooks.com/join

So she did , and when he fe l tTouch of her soft fingers , law !John

’

s heart j ust began to meltLike ice does of sudden thaw .

What might fol low , seems so p lain ,Doesn ’t need remarks at a l l ;That i s , John and Nancy Jane ,They got married in the fa l l .

Joy stays round awhi le and singsN icest kind of l i tt l e tunes ,

Al l ’bout thorns and bonnet-stri ngs,

Wedding bel l s , and honey—moons .

Didn ’t last long, cam e th i s way ,John said , wasn

’t any ,u se

Wasting whol e of winter day,

Just to roast a C hristmas goose .

Nancy Jane , said , yo u bl ind owl !Ought to know, you stupid men ;

C an ’t cook done a swimmin ’ fowlSoon as you can bake a hen !

After th i s they fuss and j awAlmost every day , and myWith gal l bi l in ’ i n each craw

,

How they both can argufy .

They have fracasas and fights,

And a score of fami ly a i l s ;H e said , how she scratched him nightsWi th her blasted long toe-nai l s .

N ancy Jane sa id , you low clown !Why , your nasty, whiskey breath ,

N ights when you come home from town,

Nearly p ize n s me to death .

82

Just l ike when war had begun ,Both sides game up to the eyes ,Not a bit wou ld ary oneGive an inch , or compromise .

Wh i l e their love was needing ra inIn these times of parching drouth ,Words are bandied twixt these twainHot enough to burn the mouth .

Wedlock ’s craft has stormy sea ,Looked sometimes l ike nothing cou ld

S ave the union , l est’twoul d be

Batt le-cry of baby-hood .

Whether i t was to condemn ,O r blot out the ir many s ins

,

Anyway , to l ive with themC ame a pair of blo om i n ’ twins .

Hope shines out in wedlock ’s sky,

Love ’s pent waters al l break loose,

For these blessed babies ’ crySays ,

“We bring a flag of truce .

John said , Nancy Jane , look here ,I ’ l l not drink another drop

,

Bet you too , I’ l l rai se next year

Best and bigges t k ind o f crop .

Women folks when they beginSacrificing business can

M ore redeem ing batt l es win ,Th an their fel low soldie r

,man .

I ’ l l cut o ff them long toe-nai l s ,And i f nothing else wi l l do .

Nancy Jane sai d , if that fai l sI ’ l l cut o ff my big toes too .

83

Joy comes n ow on go lden wingsEvery morning at sunri se

S ings of baby bonnet strings ,Tri l l s the sweetest lu l la-bys .

Now wi th covers wel l tucked in,

These two fond and happy spri tes,

E ach one hugging close a tw in ,Sweetly sleep , and sno re of n ights

84

THE LAST TATTOO .

Gone the sun l ight of the morning,Hushed the sound of reve il le ,

Autumn years are swi ftly p assing,Faded leaves hang on the tree .

Of the nat ion ’s m ighty legionsTo its banner ever true ,Just !a remnant l e ft , and wait ing,Waiting for the last tattoo .

Let the !sword with in the scabbardS tay and rus t with mouldy dew ,

And the bayonet ’s bright gleaming,

Let its blade have tarn i shed hue,

For the great arch-angel ’s trumpetSoon wi l l sound the last tattoo .

Fal l the shadows of the tw i l ightOn the val ley and the hi l l ;From the grove comes vesper anthemOf the lonely whippoorwi l l .

Ranks are broken , s low and hal tingI s the step of weary feet .Whi le the far o ff drums and bugleSound the sunset cal l

,retreat .

Through the gloom of n igh t and darkn essComes the sound of curfew bel l ,But no word of hasty chal lengeC omes from guard or sen tine l .

Of the nat ion ’s mighty legionsTo its banner ever true ,Just a remnant l e ft , and wait ing,

Waiting for the last tattoo .

Let the sword within the scabbardS tay

!

and rust with mouldy dew,

And the bayonet ’s bright gl eaming,Let its b lade have tarn ished hue ;For the great archange l ’s trumpetSoon wi l l sound the last tattoo .

85

LONG AGO .

As brothers now they meetWho once with hurri ed feet

Rushed forward to the charge as fri end and foeWhere ’mid the batt l e ’s SmokeFel l shot and saber ' stroke ,

Til l wet and crimson was the ground below .

But that was long ago .

Hushed i s the bugl e ’s note ,While ’ long the deadly moat

The wi ld rose-bush and dandel ions growWhose leaves of l iving green ,And blossoms ’ brighter s!heen

Have pal er luster and sti l l softer glowThan fires of long ago .

As pass ing years go byThe heart—ache and the sigh

Are heal ed and hushed,sad hearts forget thei r woe ,

And thri l l again with loveOf summer skies above ,

And from soft eyes hot tears no longer fl owFor gri ef of long ago .

8 6

FLOWERS FOR THE DEAD .

The royal robed and balmy springC omes back again with garnished wing ;I t brings the l iving fu l l del igh tOf al l that ’s fairest to the sight ,With skies of azure overhead ;But flowers only for the dead .

Through al l the wide range of the wood,

Beside the streamlet ’s crystal flood .

And by the pathway at your feet,

Are flowers fair and flowers sweet ;S tep soft ly now nor rudely tread ,These flowers here are for the dead .

With banners draped,a mourn ful train

,

We march to music ’s sol emn strain,

And bring these garlands here to layThem on these honored graves today ;The grief , the sigh , the warm tears s

’

hed,

And flowers sweet are for the dead .

87

SONS OF VETERANS .

Sons of scarred veteransYour duty ever

To guard from host i l e c lansThe country ’s banner ;

Yours i s the h igh b irth-righ tTo keep i t red and wh ite ,And blue with luster bright,

S tainless forever .

Emblem of Liberty,Boys keep i t ever

Waving on hi l l and lea,By lake and river ;

Let no accursed barS in ister soi l and marI ts folds , but l et each star

Sh ine on forever .

In the far future shou ldTraitors endeavor

S tates from their s i ster-hoodTry to d i s eve r ;

Shout and s ing with high gleeSongs of the j ubi lee ,And let your war cry be

“Union Forever .

88

https://www.forgottenbooks.com/join

M i ss Helen Gray now undertookM y school ing, an d sought to impartSuch l earning as improves the heartMy own an unthumbed primer book .

I conned the precious lessons given ,And in my dreams would oft repeatThe phrases , words , and language sweet,Wh il e I seemed mount ing up to heaven .

Sometimes she l et me kiss—the tipsOf her soft fingers , and by Jove ,I would have given a whole droveOf donkeys to have kissed her l ips .

E ach day I thought her more d ivine,

And grew into the fond bel iefShe wanted to , and would as l iefA's not , and rather too , be mine .

On e evening when the twi l ight len tA tinge of sadness to the heart

,

She asked , why should dear fri ends e’er part

,

This parting then so long lament .

She spoke with tremor and a sighAbout the hopes of coming yearsThe j oys foreshadowed

,and the fears

That pass l ike ugly phantoms by .

M y long delay I then did chideIn keeping such a loving heart

,

So long and far from mine apart ,And moved up

!

closer by her side .

O what a world of rapture l iesIn love ’s first dream ! O could we keepThe fond i l lu s ion ti l l the peepOf j udgment dawns in the skies .

9 0

I s aid dear Helen i t i s wrong,The fairest flowers that bloom to cul l .Then let the fragrant odors lul lThe heart to sleep and doubts prolong .

How dearer far to me than l i feI told her she had dai ly grown ,And asked her , would she be my own ,Beloved

,and ever loving wife .

She gazed , and stared , and looked as quee r,As saint or demon petrified,Then hitched a l i ttle from my side ,And said with sort of devi l ’s sneer !

Why ! O dear me what have I done !That you your love shou ld now unfoldTo me whose heart i s icy cold ,Indeed ! I only was in fun .

Don ’t l et the tears put out your eyes ,This hOpe , and trust , and love are toys ,For si l ly gi rl s and fool i sh boysTo get

,and lose e ’er they grow wise .

M y head was in a dizzy whirlAs I walked home and thought how soonSome other youth would come and croonHis love—song to that C l i fton girl .

That night I had unqu iet sl eep ,Unearthly dreams did me appal l !Next day the news of Sumpter ’s fal lM ade other eyes grow sad and weep .

Al l day above the busy humOf trade and traffic in the street ,Was heard the tramp of marching feet ,And rol l and ratt l e of the drum .

9 1

We boys smo oth face and ruddy then ,

When we came back in sixty-five ,I mean the few who were al ive ,Were fu l l-grown , bronzed and bearded men .

Somehow, and with a“

modest graceThe dear, true-hearted , lovely gir l sWould brush aside their sunny cur ls ,And smil e upon each sun-burnt face .

On e of the fairest ,and to meThe best i s n ow my own dear wife ;Her love and trus t have made my lifeHappy as l i fe on earth can be .

We have a darl ing girl and boyTo romp and frol ic by our side

,

And these are al l a mother ’s pride,

Alike the y are a father’s joy .

Last Sunday afternoon as weWalked home from church

,and chatted on

The sermon preached from good S t . John ,M y wife turned round and said to me

Who was that sat by Irene Smith !Looked l ike a forlorn

,castaway

O ld sweetheart of a former day,Whom some bad man has t r ifled wi th .

You mean the one on whi ch decayIs feeding fast with greedy tooth

,

The one with faded bloom and youth,

Why dear that was M i ss Helen Gray .

92

OUTWARD B OUND .

The sh ip sai l s out of the harbor ’s mouth ,Sai l s out on the wide blue sea ,The wind , a soft br eath from the balmy southI s gentle , as breeze can be ;Afloat on the wave l ike a fair whi te swanThe ship outward bound on its course sai ls on .

A beauti fu l thing, yet how frai l of wingTo span with its onward sweepAcross the dark gulf of the riotingWi ld waves of the stormy deep ;And bear the glad tidings of j oy afarFrom lands of the morn ing and evening star .

The city s 1n ks down ti l l i ts domes and spiresSeems resting low on the shore ;Now fainter and fainter their sun-l i t firesJust gleam and are seen no more ;The blue sky above

,and the sea below

Whose dark troubled waters forever flow .

On e day and afar, on the bi l lows’ crest ,

A lonely th ing seem s to l i e ,Like wave-washed plumage of sea-b ird ’s breast,C loud-spot on the low down sky ;Now measured and nearer—a sh ip ’s white sai l ,Have fair winds sped you , O good ship ha i l !

A stranger or fri end ; how the lonely deepM akes kindred of heart s that braveThe dangers scarce lu l led to unquiet sl eepOn bosom of faith l ess wave

Ships meet on the sea as we meet on landThey part and pass onward to di stant strand .

Ou r l i fe i s a sea , -we are outward bound ,Ou r haven the land of res-t ;

O may our far voyage with j oy be crownedOu r heart s wi th glad welcome bl est,Then laden with goodness and cleansed from s in ,M ay Pi lot be wait ing to l ead us in .

9 3

B ENNY ’S REPENTANCE .

His mother ’s one j oy was her dear darl ing boy,Her Benny

,a lad nearly grown ;

But early i n M ay this dear !boy ran away,And left h is poor mother alone .

He found work to do with a boat- load ing crew,.

Somewhere in’

a smal l river town ;The white fog would stay half the long summer dayThen l iking the place sett le down .

Along in the fa l l t ime the hairy-worms crawl,

Poor Benny alas came to grief,

Wi th cold ague-chi l l he was taken so i l l,

He shook l ike a wind-beaten leaf .

Alone on his cot , he bemoans his sad lot ,And wishes he never had seenThis queer river town where the fog sett l es down

,

And water in summer turns green .

’Twixt fever and chi l l after taking a pi l l ,His tho ughts back to mother would roam

,

So best way he cou ld as a poor fe l low wou ld,He traveled on slow j ourney home

On e late autumn day as he shivering lay,

And pale as a ghost on hi s bed ,After breath ing a sigh with a tear in his eye

,

And quivering l ips Benny sa id !

0 mother dear pray for you r Benny and sayHe never had ague before

,

And i f he don ’t d ie , but gets we l l “by and by,

He won ’t runaway any more .

9 4