THE SOLDIER'S SWEETHEART. 297 THE SOLDIER'S SWEETHEART. I BY GEORGE W. BUNGAY. GO down to the sea, Where the waves speak to me Of my darling, the soul of my soul Mark the desolate shore, Where she tempted the billows to roll. There the sad billows break, Like my heart for her sake, On the lonely and desolate shore; For the waves of the sea Are now sighing with me, For a mortal, now mortal no more. With my heart filled with tears, And my hopes chilled with fears, By the grave of my darling I knelt; And I uttered a prayer On the listening air, Whose dew wept the sorrow I felt. There the winds wove a shroud Of a dim passing cloud, 298 THE SOLDIER'S SWEETHEART. Betwixt me and the bright stars above; Like the shape under mould, Would that I were a flower, Born of sunshine and shower; And I never would fade In the delicate shade Of the tree in whose shadow she lies. By her white rural tomb, When the stars closed their beautiful eyes. Now I see her in dreams On the banks of the streams, THE RISING OF THE NORTH. THE RISING OF THE NORTH. HIGH on the mountains A new day is dawning; Over the eastern hills Up from the valleys. Full of the holy fires Long was the night-watch, Dim burned the altar-fires, Now, from the orient, Leaps the new day, Chasing the shadows Of midnight away. Freedom has risen, And men shall once more Gird on the armor Their forefathers wore. 299 High on the mountains The new day is dawning; Soon in the valleys Shall break the glad morning. J. N. M. THE CAVALRY CHARGE. 301 Ο THE CAVALRY CHARGE. BY EDMUND C. STEDMAN. UR good steeds snuff the evening air, Each carbine sent its whizzing ball: Dash on beneath the smoking dome: Cling! clang! forward all! Heaven help those whose horses fall: They flee before our fierce attack! They fall! they spread in broken surges. Now, comrades, bear our wounded back, And leave the foeman to his dirges. WHEEL! |