TO MY CHILDREN.

BY A SOLDIER IN THE ARMY.

DARLINGS-I am weary pining:
Shadows fall across my way;
I can hardly see the lining
Of the clouds-the silver lining,
Turning darkness into day.

I am weary of the sighing;
Moaning-wailing through the air;
Breaking hearts, in anguish crying
For the lost ones-for the dying,
Sobbing anguish of despair.

I am weary of the fighting:
Brothers, red with brother's gore.
Only, that the wrong we're righting,-
Truth and Honor's battle fighting,-
I would draw my sword no more.

I am pining, dearest, pining,

For your kisses on my cheek;
For your dear arms round me twining;
For your soft eyes on me shining;

For your lov'd words; darlings-speak!

Tell me, in your earnest prattle,
Of the olive branch and dove;
Call me from the cannon's rattle;
Take my thoughts away from battle;
Fold me in your dearest love.

Darlings-I am weary pining:
Shadows fall across my way;
I can hardly see the lining
Of the clouds-the silver lining;
Turning darkness into day.

ON THE SHORES OF TENNESSEE.

MOVE my arm-chair, faithful Pompey,
In the sunshine bright and strong,
For this world is fading, Pompey,-
Massa won't be with you long;
And I fain would hear the south wind
Bring once more the sound to me,
Of the wavelets softly breaking
On the shores of Tennessee.

"Mournful though the ripples murmur,

As they still the story tell,

How no vessels float the banner
That I've loved so long and well;

I shall listen to their music,

Dreaming that again I see

Stars and Stripes on sloop and shallop
Sailing up the Tennessee.

"And Pompey, while old Massa's waiting For Death's last dispatch to come,

If that exiled, starry banner

Should come proudly sailing home, You shall greet it, slave no longer ;— Voice and hand shall both be free That shout and point to Union colors On the waves of Tennessee."

"Massa's berry kind to Pompey; But ole darkey's happy here, Where he's tended corn and cotton

For 'ese many a long gone year.

Over yonder Missis' sleeping,-
No one tends her grave like me;
Mebbie she would miss the flowers
She used to love in Tennessee.

"Pears like she was watching, MassaIf Pompey should beside him stay; Mebbie she'd remember better

How for him she used to pray; Telling him that way up yonder White as snow his soul would be, If he served the Lord of Heaven While he lived in Tennessee."

Silently the tears were rolling
Down the poor old dusky face,
As he stepped behind his master,
In his long-accustomed place.
Then a silence fell around them,
As they gazed on rock and tree
Pictured in the placid waters
Of the rolling Tennessee.

Master, dreaming of the battle

Where he fought by Marion's side,
When he bid the haughty Tarleton
Stoop his lordly crest of pride.
Man, remembering how yon sleeper
Once he held upon his knee,
Ere she loved the gallant soldier,
Ralph Vervair of Tennessee.

Still the south wind fondly lingers
'Mid the veteran's silver hair;
Still the bondman close beside him
Stands behind the old arm-chair.

With his dark-hued hand uplifted,
Shading eyes, he bends to see
Where the woodland, boldly jutting,
Turns aside the Tennessee.

Thus he watches cloud-born shadows
Glide from tree to mountain crest,
Softly creeping, aye and ever

To the river's yielding breast.
Ha! above the foliage yonder
Something flutters wild and free!
"Massa! Massa! Hallelujah!

The flag's come back to Tennessee!

"Pompey, hold me on your shoulder, Help me stand on foot once more, That I may salute the colors

As they pass my cabin door;

Here's the paper signed that frees you,
Give a freeman's shout with me-
"God and Union!' be our watchword
Evermore in Tennessee."

Then the trembling voice grew fainter,
And the limbs refused to stand;
One prayer to Jesus--and the soldier
Glided to that better land.

When the flag went down the river
Man and master both were free,
While the ringdove's note was mingled
With the rippling Tennessee.

LAST WORDS.

BY HORATIO ALGER, JR.

"DEAR Charlie," breathed a soldier-
"O, comrade, true and tried,
Who in the heat of battle
Pressed closely to my side;

I feel that I am stricken,
My life is ebbing fast;

I fain would have you with me,
Dear Charlie, till the last.

"It seems so sudden, Charlie;
To think to-morrow's sun
Will look upon me lifeless,
And I not twenty-one !
I little dreamed this morning

'Twould bring my last campaign;

God's ways are not as our ways,
And I will not complain.