Beside her couch she weary kneels,
And clasps her hands before her face-
Ah, only Christ knows what she feels,
A lonely supplicant for grace!
She prays for one who does not come;
And draws an answer from her hopes,
The while above her silent home,
The stars slide down night's silvery slopes.
BATTLE OF NEWBERN, N. C.,
MARCH 14TH; '62.
Lo! from the distant West a glorious light
Breaks on the darkness of the nation's night!
It mingles with the dawn of victory,
Which gilds the eastern sky so brilliantly,
Until the day is beaming full and clear
Where until now was gloom, and doubt, and fear!
Now in this hour of joy!-this happy day
Our gratitude to God we humbly pay!
He ever gives the battle to the right!
And wrong cannot prevail with all its might!
May He protect the widow and the child,
And soothe their anguish with His blessings mild!
May He be near the wounded heroes too,
And succor those who fought so brave and true!
May he receive the spirit of the slain,
Where they can never know of war again!
A grateful land reveres their memory,
Which shall endure through all Eternity!
WHO WILL CARE FOR MOTHER NOW?
AFTER THE BATTLE OF VALLE RANCHE, NEW MEXICO,
MARCH 28TH, '62.
WHY am I so weak and weary,
See how faint my heated breath,
All around to me seems darkness,
Tell me, comrades-is this Death?
Ah! how well I know your answer,
To my fate I meekly bow,
If you'll only tell me truly
Who will care for mother now.
Who will comfort her in sorrow,
Who will dry the falling tear,
Gently smooth her wrinkled forehead?
Who will whisper words of cheer?
Even now I think I see her
Kneeling, praying for me! how
Can I leave her thus in anguish?
Who will care for mother now?
Let this knapsack be my pillow,
And my mantle be the sky;
Hasten, comrades, to the battle!
I will like a soldier die.
Soon with angels I'll be marching,
With bright laurels on my brow;
I have for my country fallen,
Who will care for mother now?
GOD WILL CARE FOR MOTHER NOW.
CAPTURE OF UNION CITY, TENN.,
MARCH 31ST, '62.
QUELL, oh! quell your fears, my darling;
Think not of your Mother, child;
Though I never cease my weeping,
Though my thoughts are fierce and wild,
I will try to bear up nobly,
To God's decree humbly bow,
If you'll only cease your asking:
Who will care for Mother now?
When you cross the river Jordan,
Let no anxious thoughts arise:
I am coming, coming after,
Angels bear me to the skies,
Let no thoughts of coming sorrow
Cloud your placid, peaceful brow;
You can confidently answer:
God will care for mother now!
Oh! when in death those eyelids close,
When they bear thee to the tomb:
When life's arduous work is done:
When your Maker calls you home:
And when again to dust you turn,
When in Heaven rise again:
There, where no earthly sorrows come:
God will guard your Mother then.
FATHER SHIELD HIM FROM THE SHOT
AT THE BATTLE OF FARMINGTON, VA.,
O LORD of Hosts! his Country called,
And nobly to her voice he sprung,
While o'er his brow our banner flashed,
Where chargers neighed and trumpets rung;
There were no tremors in his eye,
When putting on his warrior-crest;
And but a tear-it was when he
Was clasped unto his mother's breast!
O Father! shield him from the shot;
But if it is his doom to die,
May he with shouts of triumph round,
Bend on our flag his closing eye-
And feeling that his mother's soul
Is watching on the field of death;
Where, though it weeps, yet gives a smile
Unto her brave boy's last wild breath.
O proudly will his mother see
Her Country wreath his hero-tomb, And many a Spring nurse tenderly.
With Nature's tears the garland's bloom! How sweet will be the song of praise, Where his dear relics peaceful lie! How grand-away exultant thoughts! O God! he must not, MUST NOT die!
BEFORE THE BATTLE OF PITTSBURG LANDING, MISS., APRIL 6TH, '62.
HARK! from the South the startling cry,
Seize, Patriots, seize your arms,
And to your country's rescue fly,
Avert the threat'ning storm,
Rebellion's red, malignant star
Has risen on our land,
And treason wages deadly war
And waves his bloody wand.
Stand not aloof, your brother's blood
Cries vengeance, from the glade,
Press forward like a mighty flood,
Unsheath the glittering blade;
Press forward to the battle-field,
Do battle for the right
Till all the hosts of treason yield,
Subdued by loyal might.
It must not be, it cannot be,
Our country still must live;
Sustained by hands both strong and free
Our flag respected wave,
And Union strong again restor'd,
Our suffering land shall bless-
Our ship of State securely moor'd
Anchored again in peace.
|