WHEN THIS CRUEL WAR IS OVER.

RECAPTURE OF THE CITY OF LEXINGTON, MO., OCTOBER 16TH, '61.

DEAREST love, do you remember,
When we last did meet,

How you told me that you loved me,
Kneeling at my feet?

Oh! how proud you stood before me
In your suit of blue,

When you vow'd to me and country
Ever to be true.

When the summer breeze is sighing
Mournfully along;

Or when autumn leaves are falling,
Sadly breaths the song.

Oft in dreams I see thee lying
On the battle plain,
Lonely, wounded, even dying,
Calling, but in vain.

If amid the din of battle

Nobly you should fall,

Far away from those who love you,

None to hear you call

Who would whisper words of comfort?

Who would soothe your pain?

Ah! the many cruel fancies

Ever in my brain.

But our country called you, darling,
Angels cheer your way;

While our nation's sons are fighting,
We can only pray.

Nobly strike for God and Freedom,

Let all nations see

How we love the starry banner,

Emblem of the free.

Weeping sad and lonely,
Hopes and fears how vain!
When this cruel war is over,
Praying that we meet again.

CHARLES C. SAWYER.

BURY HIM LOW AND DEEP.

AFTER THE ENGAGEMENT AT BOLIVAR HIGHTS, VA., OCTOBER 16TH, '61.

BURY him low and deep,

Where the storm winds ne'er can find him,

To trouble his body's sleep,

And of his lost world remind him.

Bury him low and deep.

Nearer the promised to-morrow;
Over his form we will weep,—
E'en soldiers may weep in sorrow.

Bury him low and deep.

A lock of his hair first sever,
His mother would like to keep

This relic of one gone forever.
Bury him low and deep!

GEORGE W. BIRDSEYE.

GOD REAPS HIS JUDGMENT.

BATTLE OF PILOT KNOB, MO.

OCTOBER 16TH, '61.

GOD reaps his judgment-field to-day,
And sifts the darnel from the wheat:
A whirlwind sweeps the chaff away,
And fire the refuge of deceit.

In vain a nation's bloody sweat,
The sob of myriad hearts in vain,
If the scotched snake may live to set
Its venom in our flesh again.

The lords of treason and the whip
Have called us to the dread appeal,
From the loud cannon's fevered lip,
And the wide flash of bristling steel.

If now the echo of that voice

Shake down their prison house of wrong, They have their own perfidious choice, For God is good, and Truth is strong.

Their steel draws lightning, and the bolt
But fires their own volcanic mine;
God in their vineyard of Revolt
Treads out his sacramental wine!

GEORGE S. BURLEIGH.

FAREWELL.

SECOND FIGHT AT LYNN CREEK, MO.

OCTOBER 17TH '61.

Farewell! farewell! is often said
By parting friends and lovers dear,
When hearts are full of holy love

And naught but peace or joy is near.
'Tis sad at most e'en for a time,

To part with those we highly prize,

But still more sad, when angels come
Like clouds across the summer skies.

The cannon's roar, the steel's loud clash,
The bugle's sound, the heavy tramp,
The chill bivouac, the lonely watch,

The ambush, too, in marshy swamp,
Such thoughts as these shoot thro' the brain,
When now we hear the sad good-bye,
The heart beats wild with dread and fear,
And tears stand trembling in the eye.

It may, perhaps, be the last farewell,
For ne'er may they return again,
But fall before the battle's breath,
Numbered with the glorious slain.
Farewell! farewell! alas! it sends

A chill through every vital part
And dark forebodings creep around
Deep in the altar of the heart.

FRANCIS B. MURTHA.

COUNTRY OF WASHINGTON.

FIGHT AT BIG HURRICANE CREEK, MO.
OCTOBER 20TH. '61.

HAIL! brightest banner that floats on the gale! Flag of the country of Washington, hail!

Red are thy stripes with the blood of the brave,
Bright are thy stars as the sun on the wave;
Wrapt in thy folds are the hopes of the Free;
Banner of Washington! blessings on thee!

Mountain-tops mingle the sky with their snow;
Prairies lie smiling in sunshine below;
Rivers, as broad as the sea in their pride,
Border thine Empires, but do not DIVIDE;
Niagara's voice far out-anthems the sea;
Land of Sublimity! blessings on thee!

Hope of the World! on thy mission sublime,
When thou didst burst on the pathway of time,
Millions from darkness and bondage awoke;
Music was born when Liberty spoke;
Millions to come yet shall join in the glee;
Land of the Pilgrim's hope! blessings on thee;

Traitors shall perish, and treason shall fail;
Kingdoms and thrones in thy glory grow pale!
Thou shall live on, and thy people shall own,
Loyalty's sweet, where each heart is thy throne;
UNION and FREEDOM thine heritage be;

Country of Washington! blessings on thee!

WILLIAM E. ROBINSON.