MARTYRED. AFTER THE BATTLE AT FAIRFAX COURT HOUSE, VA., The banners droop above the quiet camp; Night felt, though viewless, fills the tranquil air; Each swarthy face is flushed with earnest prayer, That rises mingled with the sentry's tramp. A fair-haired youth weeps as the solemn scene The briar-rose that blossomed by the church; Green spots upon the desert sands of thought, Seen in the moonlight shed o'er Memory's mount, Bring light and bloom to hours with darkness fraught. Soon combat blurs the sunlight with its breath; Like a huge camp-fire in a snowy vale, The red moon flames thro' milky clouds, while stars Clustering 'round it, gaze through fleecy bars Where cheeks that never blanched before are pale. Rest, martyred youth! beyond the pale of death A sweeter perfume than the roses breath. CLARENCE F. BUHLER. PUT NONE BUT MEN ON GUARD TO-NIGHT. AFTER THE ATTACK ON PLYMOUTH, N. C., Pur none but men on guard to night; Put none but soldiers in the fight To guard our banner striped and starred. Он, let us mourn-for the warriors fame And his noble deeds and his glorious name For he shall not die as the warrior dies, Oh, let us grieve that ambition has Bade him to treachery bow; That he who played once a Patriot's part Is mingling with rebels now. Oh, breathe it not to the winds of heaven, Oh, let us weep-for his gallant deeds Are shadowed now with a cloud, Aye, let us mourn-for he must fall, For he shall not die as the warrior dies, With his frowning brows to the glorious skies FINLEY JOHNSON. HE WILL NEVER COME AGAIN. AFTER THE BATTLE OF MUNFORDSVILLE, KY., THOU art watching, wife, for Willie, Thou art waiting, wife, for Willie, And thy cheek grow pale with fear, Yes, your Willie died a hero On the fearful battle plain, And thy love cannot recall him, Nor thy gentle voice again Bring responses from his bosom, For his heart is hush'd and still, And you'll miss him, sadly miss him, In the cottage on the hill. Kiss the children, wife, for Willie, And when years shall give them wisdom, For a form once so familiar, That will never come again. ROBERT M. HART. THE SOLDIER'S REQUIEM. AFTER THE BATTLE AT SOUTH MOUNTAIN, MD., SOUTH winds blow soft where the soldier is lying, Weep o'er the mound of the hallowed dead; Joined in our hearts, with the land of his birthAnd let his deeds live brightest in story, Chaunted and sung by the fairest of earth! Keep bright the stars that he left to your keeping, Soil not the Banner-for aye let it wave Over the land where the hero is sleepingNever should land be so proud of a grave! ANONYMOUS. |