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 UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 
 
THE TALISMAN 
 
 BATTLE 
 
 OTHER POEMS, 
 
 A. O. GANYARD. 
 
 ROCHESTER, N. Y.r 
 
 W. S. KING, BOOK AND JOB PRINTKR, DEMOCUAT OFFICE, 
 1804. 
 

 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1864, 
 
 By A. O. Ganyard, 
 
 in tlie Clcrlv'8 Office of the Noithern Distiict of New York. 
 
 2^ (> 01 
 
TO 
 
 MY WORTHY AND ESTEEMED FRIEND, 
 
 A. S. HOOKER, 
 
 WHOSE FINE POETICAL PRODUCTIONS 
 
 HAVE BEEN TO ME A SOURCE OF 
 
 ENJOYMENT AND INSPIRATION, 
 
 THIS VOLUME IS 
 
 AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED. 
 
 §., §, ^'Awm'fs, 
 
P 11 E F A C E . 
 
 After being discharged from the service of 
 the United States, and yet unable to engage in 
 any business pursuits, on account of the severity 
 of my wounds, the time unoccupied by other 
 studies was devoted to composition — the result 
 of which, in this little volume, is submitted to 
 the public. 
 
 The Poem from which the volume receives 
 its title, is founded on facts which came under 
 my own observation, and descriptive of scenes 
 in which I actively participated during a term 
 of service exceeding fifteen months in the Army 
 of the Potomac. 
 
 A. O. G. 
 
 Rochester, N. Y. 
 
 June 1, 18G4. 
 
 1* 
 
CONTENTS. . 
 
 THE TALISMAN OF BATTLE. 
 
 Page 
 introductory, . . . . .9 
 
 i. the parting, . . ... 12 
 
 ii. the march, 
 
 iii. the battle, .... 
 iv. the ambulance train, 
 
 TI. THE TRUST, 
 VII. DARK DAYS, 
 
 16 
 18 
 37 
 
 V. Rosalie's letter, ... 45 
 
 49 
 51 
 
 53 
 
 VIII. THE TRUST FULFILLED, . . .54 
 
 CONCLUSION, ..... 
 
 ARROW FLIOnTS OF SONG, 
 
 harp-strings OF THE HEART, 
 
 THE ANGEL OF SLEEP, 
 
 COME TO THE WOODS, 
 
 NOVEMBER, . . . . • 
 
 MY MOTHER, .... 
 
 TWILIGHT ON THE POTOMAC, . 
 
 SHE WAS EIGHT AND I WAS TEN, 
 
 JUSTICE, . . . . • 
 
 LINES WITH A BOUQUET, . . , . .94 
 
 63 
 
 79, 
 78 
 80 
 84 
 86 
 88 
 91 
 
Vlll CONTENTS. 
 
 IS THE VALLET, OVER THERE, . . 97 
 TOLNEY, ...... 102 
 
 THE soldier's EVENING PRAYER, . . 104- 
 
 IN MEMORIAM, F. B. W., .... 106 
 
 " PEACE, BE STILL," . . . . 108 
 BATTLE HYMN, . . . . .111 
 LAUGHTER, . . . . .113 
 THE KISS THAT MY LOVE GAVE ME, , < 119 
 
mxt MixVxmm i)f §iitttc» 
 
 , AR is the wildest fmmer of ro- 
 inances, 
 ^ -^^ AVhose name 's recorded in the 
 book of Time, 
 And with the keen points of his bloody 
 lances, 
 Writes tragic facts, than fiction more 
 sublime. 
 
 For every blood- drop in the crimson billow. 
 Which sweeps the plain where battle 
 rages wild, 
 A tear-drop falls upon a distant pillow, 
 Where mourns the maid, and weeps the 
 orphan child. 
 
10 THE TA LISMA N OF BA TTLE 
 
 Each cannon-ball that reaps a road to ii;Iory, 
 Eacli bullet-hole that lets a spirit out, 
 
 But forms a page in some unwritten story, 
 AYliich no pen e'er siiall tell the world 
 about. 
 
 Theie 's not a corpse falls on the field of 
 battle, 
 But lies athwart some sun of hapi>iness, 
 Causing upon a distant heart to settle 
 A shadow deep, which never shall grow 
 less. 
 
 There 's not a sohlier but some fund one 
 cares for, 
 But has a corner in some distant heart, 
 But whom some lips breathe frequent, ear- 
 nest jirayers for, 
 But some one thinks of while the tear- 
 drops start. 
 
THE TALISMAN OF BATTLE. 11 
 
 The beamino; stars npon the flags that lead 
 them, 
 The shining stripes of blended flame and 
 snow, 
 Tell tales, and we shall hear the angels read 
 them, 
 When NOW is lost in the dim long ago. 
 
 Dark AVar turns souls out to be damned or 
 sainted ; 
 This is not reckoned when the fight is 
 planned ; 
 But let us turn to where is represented 
 A scene which all may see and under- 
 stand — 
 A scene by War in crimson colors painted, 
 And illy copied by an unskilled hand. 
 
12 THE TALISMAN OF BATTLE. 
 
 %. murmurs of the woodland 
 
 brook, 
 Were mingling with the evening 
 
 breeze, 
 Which in its passage softly shook 
 The foliage of the autumn trees, 
 And touched to melody the keys 
 Of nature's instruments of sound ; 
 While in rich harmony witli these 
 Mingled the notes of warblers round, 
 All plumed for flight to lands where 
 
 flowers abound. 
 
THE TALISMAN OF BATTLE. 13 
 
 Along the border of the brook 
 A mourning maiden wandered slow ; 
 The roses had her cheeks forsook, 
 And lilies bloomed there white as snow ; 
 The tears of grief had ceased to flow, 
 Because the fountains had run drj, 
 Or were bj weeping drained so low 
 That none now escaped her mournful eye, 
 To tell of grief which but with death might 
 die. 
 
 Her slender form was frail and weak, 
 Yet beautiful indeed was she ; 
 The sweeping lashes touched her cheek. 
 Her eyes were dark as dark could be. 
 And on her lips you just could see 
 The slightest tinge of rose-hue fair. 
 While flowed unbound, profuse and free, 
 Down o'er her soft, white shoulders bare. 
 The curling billows of her midnight hair. 
 2 
 
14: THE TALlSAfAN OF BATTLE. 
 
 She paused beneath the willowy boughs 
 Of an old elm tree standing near, 
 Where but last night, her lover's vows 
 Were poured into her listening ear, 
 Aa stood her young heart still to hear, 
 While one strong arm was circled round 
 The form of her he held most dear ; 
 The light breeze listened the sweet sound, 
 Soft fell the moonbeams as on holy ground. 
 
 He had his soldier trappings on, — 
 The burnished sword hung by his side. 
 And flashed as ever and anon 
 'Mong swaying boughs down poured a 
 
 tide 
 Of moonlight, while his promised bride, 
 A shining braid of her own hair 
 Child-like about the bright hilt tied, 
 And whispered, — "William, leave it there 
 Till it shall stains of war's red dew-drops 
 
 bear. 
 
THE TALISMAN OF BATTLE. 15 
 
 " You will be brave, I know you will, 
 And when this sword shines in the fight, 
 This dark braid bound upon it still, 
 Let it remind you of this night, 
 And of the vows which here we plight. 
 And when at length the war is done, 
 Let THIS, presented, prove your right 
 To claim the heart which you have won, 
 And hand in hand through life we'll jour- 
 ney on." 
 
 But now upon the light wind comes 
 The low and distance-mellowed sound 
 Of martial trumpets and of drums ; 
 Tlie maiden kneels upon the ground ; 
 Low murmured accents float around ; 
 Her hands arc clasped in prayerful woe ; 
 Utt'rance distinct one sentence found ; 
 " Protect him, God !" then bowed she low, 
 And would have wept, but tears refused to 
 flow. 
 
16 THE TALISMAN OF BATTLE. 
 
 The bugled music fainter grew, 
 And fainter, and the drum's far beat 
 Kept dying, dying, as the few 
 Brave soldiers with impatient feet, 
 Moved out the winding village street, 
 And round the hill, and far away. 
 Till echoes heard no sound t' repeat, 
 But silent on the hill-sides lay. 
 And fell asleep with that bright autumn 
 day. 
 
 II. 
 
 0££AL]I» we this gallant, warlike few 
 In all their winding path pursue, 
 "With weary feet in tedious tramp. 
 Through skirmish, battle, march and cam])? 
 Tell how they lessened day by day, 
 While graves, like mile-stones, marked their 
 way ; 
 
THE TALISMAN OF BATTLE. 17 
 
 How brave thej were, how firm they stood, 
 Where Battle stalked knee-deep in blood, 
 With broad blade dripping wet and red, 
 And plumes of banners on his head ? 
 ITo, let us turn one year-leaf o'er, 
 By bullets torn, and wet with gore, 
 ISTor read the dark and dreadful words. 
 Inscribed by bayonet points and swords. 
 It might be well to pause and tell 
 Of those who bravely fighting fell. 
 In that dark year of awful deeds, 
 Of which no patriot tearless reads ; 
 But no, we're forced to pass it by. 
 Its deeds let unrecorded lie ; 
 For on the next red leaf, behold, 
 A bloodier tale waits to be told. 
 
 2* 
 
18 TEE TALISMAN OF BATTLE. 
 
 III. 
 
 I WAS tlie hoi J hour of evening, 
 And the western sky was bright, 
 
 As the sunbeams were dissolving 
 In a mellow mist of light. 
 
 And far away to eastward 
 Dim groups of shadows met,' 
 
 And above the earth 'gan peeping 
 To see if the sun had set. 
 
 And the Angel of the Twilight 
 Saw the deejDening shadows win, 
 
 As the golden scale kept sinking, 
 That had the sunshine in. 
 
THE TALISMAN OF BATTLE. 19 
 
 And the drops of dew were rounding • 
 
 In the lily's silver cup, 
 As the sunset's rosy fingers 
 
 Shut the diamond portals up. 
 
 It had been a day of battle, 
 
 And king Death had sat at feast, 
 
 Since the streaking sunshine glittered 
 On the lintels of the east. 
 
 Sword and sword had met with dashing- 
 Bayonet and bayonet crossed — 
 
 Hill tops had been charged and taken ;- 
 The foe rallied — they were lost. 
 
 Scarcely on the field of battle 
 
 Had contended a brigade, 
 But had some fierce charge resisted, 
 
 Or a charge more fiercely made. 
 
20 THE TALISMAN OF BATTLE. 
 
 While the firm earth jarred and trembled, 
 '^Neath the tramp of hosts combined, — 
 
 A line of gleaming steel in front, 
 And of flashing eyes behind. 
 
 Swarms of bullets all the air filled 
 "With a wild, bewildering hiss, 
 
 Though scarce one found living target 
 Where a hundred flew to miss. 
 
 Howling balls from gaping cannon 
 Plowed deep furrows in the ground, 
 
 And went through the charging columns 
 With a glancing plunge and bound. 
 
 While the tear of parting sinews, 
 And the crash of breaking bones, 
 
 Mixed with prayers and oaths, were car- 
 ried 
 On a mighty flow of groans. 
 
THE TALISMAN OF BATTLE. 21 
 
 Beat of drums and wail of trmn]3ets, 
 Neigh of steeds and shouts of men, 
 
 In the dark air wildly mingled, 
 As they broke and formed again, 
 
 And the bleeding, moaning wounded, 
 On the red earth crawled about, 
 
 Seeking shelter in the trenches 
 
 "Which the cannon balls scooped out. 
 
 And the trundling wheels of cannon. 
 As they bounded o'er the plain. 
 
 Broke the limbs and crushed the corpses 
 Of the newly fallen slain. 
 
 While the empty musket, lying 
 
 By the soldier on the sand. 
 And the crimson-bladed saber. 
 
 In the dying hero's hand, 
 
22 THE TALISMAN OF BATTLE. 
 
 Under hoof and wheel were broken, 
 Like the brittle bouglis of pines, 
 
 And the wounded saw their coming, 
 And with feeble hands made signs ; 
 
 As their pale lips faintly moving 
 Just breathed out a feeble sound, 
 
 Which, amid the jar and tumult, 
 Of this onward rush was drowned, 
 
 And the great wheels thundered o'er them, 
 And the steeds' hoofs crushing fell, 
 
 As their prayers for safety ended 
 In a pain-extorted yell. 
 
 While the soldiers rushing onward. 
 
 To the rapid roll of drums, 
 Heeded not the jarring thunder, 
 
 Nor the shell and bullet hums, 
 
THE TALISMAN OF BATTLE. 23 
 
 But 'mid waving swords and banners, 
 Caught their leader's guiding form, 
 
 And with cheer on cheer they followed, 
 As he galloped through the storm* 
 
 And the living filled the openings, 
 And the torn ranks formed anew, 
 
 Where went down the mangled hundreds, 
 As the iron tide swept through, 
 
 And the fallen flags were lifted. 
 And each dying bearer's eye 
 
 Brightened as he saw them flying, 
 And the roaring charge went by. 
 
 And in feebleness half rising, 
 Many a wounded soldier pale. 
 
 Watched the progress of the battle, 
 As its thunders filled the rale. 
 
24 THE TALIS3IAN OF BATTLE. 
 
 And thej oft to eager questions — 
 As th' unsteady conflict veered— 
 
 Told their feebler, dying comrades, 
 In the mingled fight who cheered, 
 
 And each soldier's eye grew brighter, 
 As the banner streamed in sight, 
 
 Which his own brigade was beariDg 
 In the red front of the fight. 
 
 But anon they saw them waver — 
 Struggling for the hill's red croM^n- 
 
 And their hearts kept rising, falling, 
 As the flag moved up and down. 
 
 Till a horseman wildly galloped 
 O'er the field, into the smoke. 
 
 When at once a sound of trumpets, 
 O'er the din of conflict broke. 
 
THE TALISMAN OF BATTLE. 25 
 
 Sadly thinned, but not disordered, 
 Down the hill, and o'er the plain, 
 
 Slowly moved the loyal army. 
 Through a storm of leaden rain. 
 
 Some assist their fallen comrades, 
 "Who, beside them, charging fell,- 
 
 'Hid the gun-born fog of battle, — 
 Struck by hissing shot or shell ; 
 
 But the flying, crashing missiles 
 In a roaring torrent pour, 
 
 And. the wounded are re-wounded, 
 And the torn dead mangled more, 
 
 Till by faint success elated, 
 
 " Forward !" all the bugles sound ; 
 Glancing bayonet lines are levelled, 
 
 AikI a loud shout echoes round. 
 3 
 
26 THE TALISMAN OF BATTLE. 
 
 Down the lull they press together, 
 And across the bloody field, 
 
 Then up the hills behind which 
 Are the loyal hosts concealed. 
 
 Will no angel bend to warn them 
 Of the unsuspected wile ? — 
 
 Victory every eye has blinded, 
 With her bright, deceitful smile. 
 
 Lo, at once the hills are shaken 
 By a mighty earthquake roar, 
 
 And the shot rain down upon them. 
 While the clouds rise up before. 
 
 Booming terrors burst and thicken ; 
 
 Fa,8ter flash the dense-ranked guns, 
 And fair Freedom's watching Goddess 
 
 Smiles upon her loyal. sons, 
 
THE TALISMAN OF BATTLE. 27 
 
 As the host of maddened foeinen, 
 On our line of lightning pours, 
 
 And the red hills rock and tremble, 
 'Neath a jarring flood of roars. 
 
 Through the clouds shine cannon blazes, 
 And the crowded thunders swell, 
 
 Till the flame-wrapped van of battle 
 Seems the unwalled side of hell, 
 
 And the ranks of banded foemen. 
 
 Rush on like ocean surge, 
 But are mangled, torn and blasted, 
 
 As they near the flaming vei'ge. 
 
 Now they seem a moment gaining, 
 And their fiendish shouts grow loud. 
 
 As the front ranks are half hidden. 
 In the rolling flame and cloud ; 
 
28 THE TALISMAN OF BATTLE. 
 
 But the flying hailstones thicken, 
 With the jarring boom and crash, 
 
 And the polished bayonets glitter 
 In the angry cannon flash, 
 
 While the front ranks crumble faster 
 Than their places can be filled, 
 
 Till is formed a bloody rampart 
 Of the wounded and the killed. 
 
 The gunner wields the lanyard. 
 
 And the rammer's sponge runs dry. 
 
 And the canister and grape-shot 
 In a reaping tempest fly. 
 
 " FoKWAPwD ! Forward !" sounds the order. 
 And the mad ranks forward leap 
 Over piles of fallen comrades, 
 Where the blood runs ankle deep. 
 
THE TALISMAN OF BATTLE. 29 
 
 But the storm of iron holds them, 
 Saving wliere the fierce array 
 
 Wildly rushes on the center, 
 Where the cannoniers give way. 
 
 With drawn swords they fall back slowly, 
 While with dark and angry frown, 
 
 Thrusts from bayonets they parry, 
 As they strike the foremost down ; 
 
 Till one battery's guns are captured, 
 And the rest are falling back, 
 
 While the shouts and cheers grow louder 
 As the cannon roars grow slack, 
 
 Till upleaping on a sudden, 
 
 In a long unbroken line. 
 To the rearward of the cannons, 
 
 Burnished bayonets brightly shine. 
 
30 THE TALISMAN OF BATTLE. 
 
 " ChAKGE ! CHARGE ! DOUBLE QUICK, MEN ! 
 FORWARD !" 
 
 Falls like thunder on their ears, 
 And the trumps and drums repeat it, 
 'Mid a mighty roll of cheers, 
 
 And the ground begins to tremble, 
 As their swift feet rise and fall. 
 
 To the music of the drum beat, 
 And the bugle's brazen call. 
 
 ^Mong the guns they rush with fury, 
 And before them sternly close, 
 
 While their bayonets ring and rattle 
 'Mong the bayonets of their foes. 
 
 Thrusting, parrying, clubbing, warding. 
 Thrust for thrust and blow for blow, 
 
 Hearts are pierced and breasts torn open ; 
 Dashed-out brains fly to and fro. 
 
THE TALISMAN OF BATTLE. 31 
 
 Not a sound but groans and curses, 
 And the clash of meeting steel, 
 
 While some dead and wounded fall not, 
 But, as sways the dense crov/d, reel. 
 
 Here and there with bloody weapons, 
 Through each other, foemen lie, 
 
 And they moan and curse each other, 
 While in agony they die. 
 
 Eut the loyal army wavers, 
 And the centre almost breaks, 
 
 Where yon trodden, bloody hill-top, 
 'ITeath the fiercest battle, shakes. 
 
 But they stand the onset bravely, 
 Till they see their leader fall. 
 
 When a fierce and sudden terror 
 Quickly seizes on them all, 
 
32 THE TALISMAN OF BATTLE. 
 
 And they're on the point of flying, 
 When a youth with lifted blade 
 
 In one hand, in one the banner, 
 Forward plunges, undismayed. 
 
 "With one rapid glance cast backward, 
 Cries he in this hour of need, 
 
 " Up, boys ! KALLT KOUND THE BANNER ! 
 
 Follow, chaeging, wheke I lead !" 
 
 With a shout of reassurance, 
 They in fiercer combat close. 
 
 For a nobler, braver leader, 
 
 Ne'er led patriots 'gainst their foes. 
 
 Thrusting, parrying and smiting, 
 In succession quick he stands. 
 
 His example fiercely followed 
 By the brave men he commands, 
 
THE TALISMAN' OF BATTLE. 33 
 
 And his briirht sword shines like \m\\i- 
 ning, 
 
 As it cleaves the battle air, 
 And around the Idlt tied firmly^ 
 
 Is a Iraid of raven hair. 
 
 But a foeman's broad sword hissing, 
 Comes a-glancing down his blade, 
 
 And the bright lock rudely severed, 
 On the bloody ground is laid, 
 
 And his dark eye fiercely flashes, 
 As they tread it 'neath their feet, 
 
 "While his breast heaves like a billow, 
 To his wild heart's furious beat. 
 
 Forward, like a wounded tiger, 
 Keeping guard before her young, 
 
 In their faces with defiance, 
 
 Crying, " Follow me !" he sprung. 
 
34 THE TALISMAN' OF BATTLE. 
 
 Steel from steel tore sjDarks and flashes, 
 And his brave men closed up well, 
 
 Till the prize he saw, sprang forward, 
 And grasped it as he fell, 
 
 While before the furious onset 
 Of the maddened men he led, 
 
 Was the foe's strong centre broken, 
 And with panic seized, they fled. 
 
 * * -x- * * * 
 
 Bugles sound the cannon forward. 
 And they roll uj) to the hills. 
 
 And a storm of iron missiles 
 All the air of battle fills. 
 
 Furious shells keep bursting, bursting, 
 And the shot keep raining on. 
 
 And scattered dead and wounded men, 
 The falling fall upon. 
 
THE TALISMAN OF BATTLE. 35 
 
 Eiiined wrecks of broken cannon ; 
 
 Wounded steeds that flounce about ; 
 Horsemen overrunning footmen. 
 
 Add confusion to the rout, 
 
 As in mingled wild disorder, 
 
 With more speed than is their wont. 
 
 All strive fiercely to be foremost. 
 In the rearward-rushing front. 
 
 But amid the smoking chaos 
 Of the roaring overthrow, 
 
 Comes a pause in the swift progress 
 Of the fast retreating foe. 
 
 Hark ! a numerous reinforcement, 
 With loud shouts the distance fills, 
 
 As they catch the scent of battle. 
 As it floats beyond the hills. 
 
36 THE TALISMAN OF BA TTLE. 
 
 Back there rolls a hearty answer, 
 While their steps the flying check, 
 
 And the beaten, routed army. 
 Is but just preserved from wreck ; 
 
 And the fierce pursuit abandoned. 
 Gives them leisure to reform. 
 
 And revive the waning fury 
 Of the crimson battle-storm. 
 
 And the dark red fight raged fiercely, 
 And the dense clouds mounted hie-h. 
 
 Till the day at length was ended, 
 And the sun bade earth good-bye. 
 
 When the warring hosts seemed weary 
 Of the bloody work of death, 
 
 And the cannons ceased to thunder. 
 And the battle paused for breath. 
 
THE TALISMAN OF BATTLE. 37 
 
 IV. 
 
 Kk stars in the skj began burning, 
 Cool winds did the green branches toss, 
 And night in the far west was turning 
 The gold of tlie sunset to dross. 
 
 And as the destruction-toned booming, 
 Grew sullenly less till it ceased, 
 
 The disk of the red moon was looming 
 Above the dark clouds in the east. 
 
 Fresh cannon with rumble and rattle, 
 Moved up to each dead-covered height. 
 
 Prepared to renew the fierce battle. 
 If fled not the foeman bv night, 
 4 
 
38 THE TxiLlSMAN OF BAITLE. 
 
 And when tho loud battle's alarm was 
 All hushed, every hoof still, and wheel. 
 
 Sleep came to the war-tired armies, 
 And dropped on their eye-lids her seal. 
 
 But not with the battle's commotion, 
 The groans of the wounded were still, 
 
 But yet like the far roar of ocean. 
 They rose up from valley and hill. 
 
 And many were busily caring 
 
 For those who were writhing in pain, 
 
 And on the stained litters were bearing 
 Them back to the ambulance train. 
 
 Then as the dim light of the lantern 
 
 Shone out from each corpse-loaded slope, 
 
 His eyes would each suffering man turn, 
 And smile with a Ilickering hope ; 
 
THE TALISilAN OF BATTLE. 39 
 
 And as tbo deep shadows grew deeper, 
 The train with its murmuring load 
 
 Moved out, startling many a sleeper, 
 As it rattled along the rough road. 
 
 While the clouds grooving darker and 
 thicker, 
 
 Eolled upward in front of the moon. 
 And stray beams came down with a flicker, 
 
 On the blade of each guarding dragoon. 
 
 Tiien red streams of lightning poured, 
 flashing 
 'Mong the folds of the storm's sable 
 shroud, 
 And deep, heavy thunders came crashing 
 Through the bars of each dark prison 
 cloud. 
 
40 THE TALISMAN OF BATTLE. 
 
 And as sword-cuts and shell-rents kept 
 bleeding, 
 
 And strength for endurance grew less, 
 Each the cries of his comrades unheeding, 
 
 Was lost in his own deep distress ; 
 
 And moving thus on all a-shiver, 
 
 With the cold and the wet of thft rain, 
 
 They called upon God to deliver 
 
 Their souls from their bodies in pain. 
 
 And anon the train paused, and the smart- 
 ing 
 
 And aching would somewhat abate, 
 But the far ahead noise of its starting, 
 
 Gave feelings which none can relate ; 
 
 And deep oaths and curses were spoken, 
 And groans which but few could restrain. 
 
 As the sore ends of bones that were broken, 
 Kept bumping together with pain ; 
 
THE TALISMAN OF BATTLE. 41 
 
 And as the torn tendons did quiver, 
 
 And the trickling blood left a dark stain, 
 
 Groans rose like the roar of a river. 
 Along the whole ambulance train. 
 
 And cries arose, pleading and prayerful, 
 While extreme torture wrung the slow 
 tear, 
 " Oh, driver ! for God's sake, drive careful ! 
 
 Be careful ! oh, driver ! oh, dear !" 
 While the drops of rain filled the whole air 
 full, 
 And the moan of the night wind was 
 drear. 
 
 But dripping wet, tired and worried, — 
 The wounded in plight scarcely worse, — 
 
 The drivers on angrily hurried, 
 
 Still answering their cries with a curse, 
 
 Till many an ambulance carried 
 
 The pale, pulseless freight of a hearse. 
 4* 
 
42 THE TALISMAN OF BATTLE, 
 
 I heard a low moaning and crying, 
 From the lips of the one next to me, 
 
 And I bent, for I thought he was dying, 
 And felt of his low pulse to see. 
 
 But his dark eyes he dreamily lifted, 
 
 And whispered, " Oh, God ! let me die !" 
 
 While the dark storm-clouds tumbled and 
 drifted, 
 Like ranges of hills through the sky. 
 
 My own pains a moment forgetting, 
 I gazed in his face, nor did speak. 
 
 For I fancied his life's sun was setting. 
 And its last Hush was red on bis cheek. 
 
 " Oh, give me some water ! some water ! 
 
 Oh, give me some watee !" he said. 
 As his flesh with the fever burned hotter. 
 
 And his dark cheeks flushed deeper with 
 red. 
 
2'HE TALISMAN OF BATTLE. 43 
 
 And with low moans and cries most dis- 
 tressing, 
 
 lie turned liini his comrades between, 
 And soon to his parched lips was pressing 
 
 The mouth of his empty canteen. 
 
 And long did he eagerly suck it, 
 And cried, when exhausted it fell, 
 
 " Oh, God ! for one drop from tlie bucket 
 That 's dripping at home in the well !" 
 
 A soldier, then passing by, halted, 
 As I raised the canteen o'er my head, 
 
 And quick from his saddle he vaulted. 
 And off to the river brink sped. 
 
 And filled it, and hastily brought it. 
 Then mounted and moved on his way ; 
 
 'Twas a good deed, a good man that 
 wrought it, 
 "God bless liim," was all I could say. 
 
M THE TALISMAN OF BATTLE. 
 
 My comrado's fierce thirst was abated, 
 And. when the train came to a halt, 
 
 A story to me he related, 
 
 Stretched out beneath heaven's dark vanlt. 
 
 A fire beside us was kindled, 
 
 And the storm wliich had trumpeted high, 
 To a calm in the dark midnight dwindled, 
 
 And the stars reappeared in the sk3^ 
 
 The blood from his deep wound kept flow- 
 ing 
 And as weaker and weaker he grew, 
 
 His cloak from his shoulders back throwing, 
 Erom 'neath it a letter he drew, 
 
 And holding it forth, he said, " Take it. 
 
 It came when the battle begun, 
 And then Td no leisure to break it, 
 
 Quick, read it, or I shall be gone !" 
 
THE TALISMAN OF BATTLE. 45 
 
 Then slowly and painfnllj turning, 
 And bending as far as I might, 
 
 Toward where the dim fire was bm'ning, 
 I read by the flickering light. 
 
 V. 
 
 ^TAIS shine nightly, 
 Just as brightly. 
 As they used to shine 
 "When your dear arms clasped me tightly, 
 And your lips pressed mine. 
 
 \ " But I'm lonely, 
 
 And they only 
 Bring the scenes now past, 
 Which by angel memory shown me, 
 Make the tears fall fast. 
 
40 THE TALISMulN OB' BATTLE. 
 
 " By the window 
 Here I liDger, 
 While the church bells chime, 
 And the clock's i evolving finger 
 Marks the flight of time. 
 
 "And the night birds 
 Chant the bright words 
 Of their unwritten song, 
 And the boughs, by breezes light stirred, 
 Pour sweet notes along. 
 
 " Bright as ever. 
 Star-beams quiver 
 'Mong the clear drops of dew 
 On the willows by the river 
 
 Where I 've walked with you, 
 
 "And I'm dreaming 
 As they're streaming 
 All the long branches through, 
 And I'm wishing that the seeming 
 May be real and true. 
 
THE TALISMAN OF BATTLE. 47 
 
 " Oh ! I wonder 
 When the thnnder 
 Of the war will cease, 
 And the nation prosper nnder 
 The bright smile of peace. 
 
 " Dark and fearful, 
 Sad and tearful, 
 May the strife yet be, 
 But our hearts will be more cheerful 
 When our land is free ; 
 
 "And though weary 
 Sad and dreary, 
 Is my life so lone, 
 Yet I 'd comfort thee and cheer thee 
 As becomes thine own ; 
 
 "And when twilight 
 Makes the sky bright, 
 I will kneel and pray 
 That what -s my light may be thy light. 
 And guide thee alway. 
 
48 THE TALISMAN OF BATTLE. 
 
 "And when flashing 
 Blades sto}) clashing, 
 And the wild strife is o'er, 
 And the raging waves of j)assion 
 Are at rest once more, 
 
 " "We, united 
 And delighted, 
 In the bright, green dell, — 
 Love, the only guest invited — 
 
 In a cottage home may dwell." 
 
THE TALISMAN- OF BATTLE. 49 
 
 iS^ I turued to my companion, 
 And the tear-tracks down his cheek 
 Told a more heart-touching story 
 Than his quivering lips could speak. 
 
 But he grasped my right hand firmly, 
 While he drew me close to him, 
 
 And he whispered, " I am going. 
 Yes, ray lamp of life is dim." 
 
 " Listen !" and he drew me nearer, 
 " There is something I would say ; 
 
 Something with which I 'd entrust you, 
 Ere my soul has passed away. 
 
50 THE TALISMAN OF BATTLE, 
 
 "Dwells a dark-baired maiden, far from 
 Where war's banners gnily flaunt, 
 
 In a cheerful little cottage 
 
 'Monsc the mountains of Vermont. 
 
 " She is fairer than the morning, 
 And as pure as evening's blush, 
 
 Or the dew-drops which your footsteps, 
 From the blooms of morning brush. 
 
 "And I 've something I would send h.er, 
 Oh, I prize it more than gold ; 
 
 'Tis the little braid I spoke of. 
 In the story that I told. 
 
 " Tell her 'mid war's awful rattle, 
 
 When the ground was piled with dead. 
 
 That this dark braid won the battle. 
 And the foemen from it fled. 
 
THE TALISMAN OF BATTLE. 51 
 
 "Tell I'or for my sake to keep it, 
 
 And when she is laid to rest, 
 Let it sbine amid the garland 
 
 Of \6^nte roses on her breast."' 
 
 lie vras silent, and I took it, 
 'Twas the last I heard him say. 
 
 For tliey took me on a litter then, 
 And carried me away, 
 
 As the mellow waves of sunshine 
 On the coast of morning rolled, 
 
 And ihoi east was dashed all over 
 Wffili the shining spray of gold. 
 
 YII. 
 
 ^yiTII others whose flesh had been 
 
 iiiangled and rent. 
 Each a suffering object of pity, 
 They bore me away to a hospital tent. 
 And from thence to the Capitol City, 
 
52 THE TALISMAN OF BATTLE. 
 
 There I found many friends who a,s sisters 
 were dear, 
 'Mong the lofty as well as the lowl}^, 
 And the day-cogs that fill the great wheel 
 of the year, 
 Turned the pinions of destiny slowly. 
 
 Till long weeks and months had dragged 
 tediously by, 
 As if bound by a cumbersome fetter ; 
 When a mother, far off, 'neath the clear 
 northern sky, 
 Kead these simple lines traced in a letter : 
 
 "The war is not yet done ; 
 High rolls the sulphur cloud ; 
 From morn till set of sun 
 The battle-shout rings loud. 
 Scores of brave men, each day, 
 Snatching one parting kiss, 
 Go forth to join the fray ; 
 Yet, notwithstanding this, 
 
 Mother, I'm coming Iiome. 
 
THE TALISMAN OF BATTLE. 5'3 
 
 " As one long year ago, 
 Wlien my sad heart did burn, 
 I went to nieet the foe, 
 Look not for ray return, 
 It was not mine to share 
 Mars' favoring smile thus long, 
 So, leaning on a pair 
 Of crutches, firm and strong, 
 Mother, I'm coming home. 
 
 " This may appear quite hard, 
 Eut sure I'll not complain. 
 When hosts are deeper scarred. 
 And hosts of others slain. 
 No, I will give no place 
 To murmuring on my part, 
 But with a smiling face, 
 And with a grateful heart, 
 
 Motlier, I'm coming home." 
 
 6* 
 
54 THE TALISMAN OF BATTLE, 
 
 VIII. 
 
 1 BIB not forget the low cot far away, 
 ISTor tlie braid that was left to mj 
 keeping ; 
 I thought of that soldier ai)d maiden Ly 
 day, 
 And dreamed of theai often when sleep- 
 ing. 
 
 Till on a still day when the earth lay asleep 
 
 In the arms of the Indian summer, 
 I passed where the echoes from many a 
 steej), 
 Long before mocked the beat of the 
 drummer ; 
 
THE TALISMAN OF BATTLE. 55 
 
 And where a green slope in the warm sun- 
 shine basked,. 
 1 paused for a moment, to ponder ; 
 Y/lien a peasant near bj, to a question I 
 asked, 
 Said, "Tiiat is the cottage, up yonder !'' 
 
 And tears down my sad cheeks came roll- 
 ing anon. 
 From the fountains which grief was un- 
 binding, 
 As tlie carriage rolled slowly and steadily 
 on. 
 Up the road that was rough, steep and 
 winding. 
 
 And nearing the cottage I paused 'ncath a 
 tree, 
 "Where the afternoon sunbeams were 
 slanting ; 
 And the notes of a dirge came floating to 
 me, 
 Which a band of sad mourners were 
 chantinir. 
 
50 THE TALISMAN OF BATTLE. 
 
 I asked not a question, but passed with the 
 rest 
 To the beautiful coffin of rosewood ; 
 The corpse looked as sw^eet witli hands 
 crossed on its breast, 
 As an innocent l)abe in repose would. 
 
 8he died with a prayer, and a smile on her 
 lips, 
 And her brow was unmarked e'en by one 
 line, 
 And the silvery shade of death's fatal 
 eclipse. 
 Served only to mellow the sunshine. 
 
 Read the plate on the coliin, " Young Eosa- 
 LIE Clare, 
 
 The heart-broken victim of sorrow. 
 Who fell asleep here to awaken up there, 
 
 To a blissful, eternal to-morrow." 
 
THE TALISMAN OF BATTLE. 57 
 
 O, angels of light in the City of Bliss, 
 What mortal, here gazing, could blame 
 
 yon, 
 
 For taking so fair a young angel as this, 
 'Keath the arch of the emerald rainbow. 
 
 I reached forth my hand to the wreath on 
 her breast, 
 The wish of the soldier was granted ; 
 Then out 'iieath the autumn-dyed maples 1 
 passed, 
 Long ago in the cottage yard planted ; 
 
 And the songs of the birds, and the 
 zephyr's low sigh, 
 And the sweet silver sound of the foun- 
 tains, 
 Seemed hushed as her guardian angel 
 passed by, 
 To her home 'mong the heavenly moun- 
 tains. 
 
58 THE TALISMAN OF BATTLE. 
 
 Oh ! what shall support in its jiulgaient- 
 ward patli, 
 The crime-loaded conscience of Treason ; 
 Or how shall it stand 'neath the fierce, hell- 
 hot wrath, 
 When Justice demandeth a reason. 
 
 Oh, God ! how these red-handed allies of 
 Crime, 
 Make playthings of lives and affections ; 
 What false lights they raise on the rock- 
 coast of Time, 
 All luring in fatal directions. 
 
 Can purity sanction such direful deeds. 
 As make hell's monarch fearful and 
 jealous ; 
 
 Or approvingly smile when a patriot bleeds, 
 Or to bow to such tyrants compel us. 
 
THE TALISMAN OF BATTLE. 59 
 
 Oh ! no, the great Anglo-American race', 
 ' Shall yet fill the forwardmost station ; 
 And for traitorous souls I believe ample 
 space 
 Is reserved in the gulf of damnation. 
 
 And our Eagle shall flap his broad wings 
 vs^hen he hears 
 Of their well-deserved downward re- 
 moval, 
 And the stars on our Flag in their crystal- 
 line spheres, 
 Shall beam a soft glow of approval. 
 
xx&V! ^ligMsi H ^me^. 
 
HARP STRINGS OF THE HEART. C3 
 
 %\\t ^\\x\)-3ix\\\p 0( the ^uxt 
 
 ^^^HERE 'S a secret chamber in every 
 '^^ heart 
 
 Where heaven-sent minstrels stand, 
 And a harp is there with tender 
 strings 
 Which quiver at their command. 
 
 And each as it quivers an impulse gives 
 To the heart in its own soft way, ■ 
 
 Eut Conscience touches the leading string, 
 And tells us which to obey. 
 
64 HARP STRINGS OF THE HEART. 
 
 And 'tis -^'ell 'tis so, for the door of the 
 heart 
 
 At times may be entered in 
 By the Evil One, who the strings will touch, 
 
 And an impulse give to sin. 
 
 The finest string in this sacred harp 
 Was made in the courts above. 
 
 And tuned by the finger of God and sent 
 To the minstrel whose name is Love. 
 
 And whenever this finest of chords is 
 touched 
 
 By the tip of his silver wing, 
 It sends a thrill to the inmost licart 
 
 And opens a bubbling spring. 
 
 And as quietly forth from this spjing doth 
 fiow 
 
 A current of nectar sweet. 
 The heart in the bosom doth rise and glow 
 
 Witli a soft and irenial heat. 
 
ilARP STRINGS OF THE HEART. 65 
 
 And a soft condactor the genial glow 
 
 To the twinkling eye imparts, 
 And a rosy flush from the germ below, 
 
 To bloom on the cheek upstarts. 
 
 'Tis felt by all but 'tis sweetest to one 
 Whose bosom is free from guile, 
 
 The maiden feels it most when she basks 
 In the light of her lover's smile ; 
 
 And tlie youth the most when he cazeth Ions: 
 In the eyes of the laughing maid, 
 
 Within whose bosom he knows for him 
 Is the self-same harp-string played. 
 
 And the motlier most when she folds her 
 
 child,— 
 
 Her only child, to her breast, 
 
 And sees the smile which his face lights up, 
 
 In his angel-guarded rest. 
 6* 
 
QQ HARP STRINGS OF THE HEART. 
 
 And the old man most when be takes the 
 Book 
 And reads of the other land, 
 While he knows bj his frame that is bend- 
 ing low, 
 His departure is near at hand. 
 
 And here in this chamber, all sweetly tuned, 
 
 Is another, a secret string, 
 Which giveth a musical sound wlien struck 
 
 By Memory's angel wing. 
 
 It scarcely is heard in the heart of youth, 
 And its tone is less sweet than when 
 
 'Tis struck in the heart of the aged man, 
 With his three score years and ten. 
 
 It giveth a flush to his faded cheek, 
 
 And a light to his failing eye. 
 As it carries him back to the golden days 
 
 When the hopes of his youth ran high ; 
 
HARP STRINGS OF THE HEART. 67 
 
 He thinks of the home of his childliood, 
 then, 
 Of the tree that sheltered his head, 
 With branches which over the cottage 
 door, 
 And over the window spread. 
 
 He thinks of the blossoms whose eyes did 
 shine, 
 In the rays of the evening still, 
 As in beantiful clusters they decked the 
 vine 
 That clung to the window sill. 
 
 He thinks of the walks in the moonlio-ht, 
 too. 
 With his love o'er the blooming lea, 
 And the warm embrace, and the warmer 
 kiss, 
 'JSTeath the boughs of the hawthorn tree. 
 
68 HARP STRINGS OF THE HEART. 
 
 And he tliinks of the beautiful garland, too, 
 
 Of flowers so bright and gay, 
 "Which circled her brow like a rainbow fair. 
 
 On the morn of the bridal day. 
 
 And the bright panorama goes gliding bj, 
 Till the hand of the minstrel stops, 
 
 When it vanishes quite from his liailing eye, 
 And the gray old curtain drojDS. 
 
 And here in tiiis hall is a coarser strins:, 
 Whose sorrowful tones are low ; 
 
 It giveth a mournful dirge when struck 
 By the raven wing of Woe. 
 
 And the heart like a drum to the tune 
 keeps time, 
 With a low and measured beat, 
 While the funeral train of its prostrate 
 hopes 
 Hoves out through the shadowy street ; 
 
HARP STRINGS OF THE HEART. 69 
 
 And a silvery stieam flows softly fortb, 
 From a fuunt in the bosom bid, 
 
 And escapes in drops from beneath the 
 edge 
 Of the silk-friiiged curtain lid. 
 
 And it flows ofttimes till the fount is dry, 
 And the roses, which once were red, 
 
 On the fall round cheeks of the mourner, 
 die, 
 And lilies bloom there instead. 
 
 'Tis keenest felt by the mourning one. 
 As lie stands by the open grave. 
 
 Or under the boughs of the willow tree, 
 "Wliich over the green mound wave. 
 
 Or else as he closes the sightless eyes 
 Of tlie one loved dearest of all, 
 
 And consigns the frozen and soulless clay, 
 To the winding-sheet and pall. 
 
70 HARP STRINGS OF THE HEART. 
 
 And here is a minstrel whose crown is a 
 star, 
 She is fair and her name is Hope, 
 Her robes are decked with flowers that 
 bloom 
 On fancy's sunniest slope. 
 
 The chord she sweeps is oftener swept 
 Than the other harp-chords there, 
 
 And with each of the others it somids in 
 tune. 
 When struck by the minstrel fair. 
 
 And there's scarcely an hour but the heart 
 of youth 
 Beats time to its harmony tone. 
 With love sometimes, and with grief some- 
 times, 
 And sometimes all alone. 
 
HARP STRINGS OF THE HEART. 71 
 
 Its sweet tones all to the future flow, 
 And the minstrel is always there, 
 
 To touch the chord with the lightest touch. 
 When the heart kneels down in prayer. 
 
 And the silvery cadence floats away, 
 O'er the deep dark stream of death, 
 
 Till the song by echoes is sung to sleep, 
 On the heavenly hills of faith. 
 
 But this chord is mortal and only sounds 
 In the valley of death and sin ; 
 
 The harp in the heart of the angel form, 
 Will have no hope-chord in. 
 
72 THE ANGEL OF SLEEP. 
 
 WAS evening's solemn lioiir, 
 
 The zepliyr's wings were furled, 
 Kor fanned each leafy bower, 
 
 Where dangling grape-vines 
 curled. 
 
 The little birds wej-e still, 
 
 In upland and in dale. 
 All save the whip-po-will, 
 
 And clear-toned nightingale. 
 
 The moon was sailing high, 
 "Where late had soared the sun, 
 
 And through the evening shy, 
 The stars peeped, one by one. 
 
THE ANGEL OF SLEEP. 73 
 
 And as those sky-lamps burned, 
 Bright as they burned of old, 
 
 Upon their hinges turned 
 The gates of pearl and gold ; 
 
 And from them slowly flew 
 
 An angel robed in white. 
 And down through ether blue, 
 
 Earthward she turned her flight, 
 
 Bearing a silver cup, 
 
 Beneath her robes hid deep, 
 "Wherein were treasured up 
 
 The soft, sweet seeds of sleep. 
 
 Slow did this angel fly, 
 
 Through skies of evening clear. 
 Unseen by mortal eye. 
 
 Unheard by mortal ear ; 
 
 7 
 
74 THE ANGEL OF SLEEP. 
 
 When with such smiling look. 
 As she alenc conld wear, 
 
 From 'neath her robes she took, 
 The Clip deep hidden there ; 
 
 And cloud-like floating slow. 
 The earth great distance o'er, 
 
 "Widely she 'gan to sow 
 The soft, sweet seeds she bore. 
 
 Gently they fell as dew, 
 
 Or as the music sweet 
 Of lark, when far from view, 
 
 His notes he doth repeat. 
 
 Where'er a creature dwelt, 
 
 She sailed on level wing, 
 And each her influence felt, 
 Lord, peasant, prince and kiiig. 
 
 I 
 
THE ANGEL OF SLEEP. 75 
 
 The babe sank to repose, 
 
 Its mother to relieve, 
 Its little eves did close, 
 
 As daisies close at eve. 
 
 The mother's weary lid, 
 Feeling a pressure slight. 
 
 Sank gently down and hid 
 The orb beneath from sisht. 
 
 The queen's soft lids they pressed, 
 Whose brow had borne a crown ; 
 
 Wljose form was laid to rest 
 On beds of eider down. 
 
 The soldier on the field 
 
 Where honor had been won, 
 
 As hosts with spear and shield 
 Fought 'neath the setting sun ; 
 
76 THE ANGEL OF SLEEP. 
 
 The sailor on the sea, 
 
 Whose ship with swelling sail 
 Moved onward light and free, 
 Before the gentle gale ; 
 
 Tiie convict in his cell ; 
 
 The plow-boy on his conch ; 
 In slumbers gently fell, 
 
 Beneath the soothing touch. 
 
 Then with her wings unfurled, — 
 Bearing her empty cup, — 
 
 She viewed the slumbering world, 
 And smiling started up. 
 
 And like a bird plumed white, 
 'Gan round and round to wheel, 
 
 Leaving the morniug light 
 The closed lids to unseal. 
 
THE ANGEL OF SLEEP. 77 
 
 Thus she each eve doth go, 
 From spring till spring again, 
 
 The slumber-seeds to sow 
 Amono; the sons of men. 
 
7S COME TO THE WOODS. 
 
 (j\ U ! come with me if you love to 
 wander, 
 Away to the woods in the distance 
 yonder ; 
 
 Away where the wild vines grow ! 
 There 's where the song-birds plumed so 
 
 neatly, 
 Unwritten music warble sweetly, 
 Charming the ear and the heart completely. 
 Come, to the woods let us go. 
 
 There 's where the grand old river marches ; 
 Thgre 's where the grape-vines weave green 
 arches ; 
 There 's where the wild flowers grow. 
 
GOME TO THE WOODS. 
 
 They the rambler's sweet reward are, 
 Scattered aloug bj the river's border, 
 And far away in rich disorder, 
 Come, to the woods let us go. 
 
 There 's where the air is light and balmy ; 
 There 's where your cares are stolen from ye, 
 
 And raised are your spirits low ; 
 Til ere you are robbed of trouble and sor- 
 row, 
 ISTor will you lind o'er much to-morrow. 
 Unless you are foolish enough to borrow ; 
 
 Come, to the w^oods let us go. 
 
80 
 
 NOVEMBER. 
 
 ^mmhx. 
 
 OVEMBER comes to mako 
 Its annual visit ; 
 i" The blue waves of the lake, 
 
 With hoarse roar dash and break, 
 While their light spray- wreaths take 
 
 All hues exquisite. 
 
 A low and muffled tone 
 
 Rings from the fountains, 
 And where the breezes moan, 
 A robe — November's own — 
 Of sober hue, is thrown 
 Around the mountains. 
 
NO VSMBER. 81 
 
 The fields, sborn of their crops, 
 
 Look brown and sterile ; 
 Piecemeal the burden drops 
 From bending hickory tops. 
 As round among them hops 
 
 The nimble squirrel. 
 
 Down through the meadow goes, 
 
 With noisy laughter. 
 The brook which overflows 
 Next month, and will be froze, 
 As every school-boy knows, 
 
 A short time after. 
 
 The grove and grape-vine s ving, 
 
 Are now forsaken ; 
 The birds there wont to sing, 
 In summer and in spring. 
 Away on rajjid wing 
 
 Their fliirht have taken. 
 
82 NO VEMBER. 
 
 The orchard boughs have shed 
 
 Their burden mellow. 
 Tlie corn is harvested, 
 The chestnut burs are dead, 
 And all the leaves are red, 
 And brown, and yellow. 
 
 Each air-boat with light sail, 
 
 Has left the thistle ; 
 Dead leaves float on the gale, 
 And by the woody vale 
 The solitary quail 
 
 Has ceased to whistle. 
 
 The winds that chilly blow, 
 
 Are sadly humming. 
 Telling in accents low, 
 "What each one dreads to know. 
 That with his ice and snow, 
 
 Old Winter's cominir. 
 
NOVEMBER. 83 
 
 And as its murky vail 
 
 The faturc slow lifts, 
 "We seem to bear the wail 
 Of winds freighted with hail, 
 And catch the outlines pale, 
 
 Of storms and snow-drifts. 
 
84 J/r MOTHER, 
 
 Pa §i»)thw. 
 
 -J HERE 'S mellow music in the sound 
 Kj That 'minds me of the one who 
 Q^X round 
 
 cj My infant form her arms entwined 
 Protectingl J, ere yet my mind 
 Knew to be thankful, or my weak, 
 Untutored tongue its thanks could speak. 
 
 'Twas she who held with constant care, 
 Above ray brow the shield of prayer, 
 When first I wandered forth and played 
 With mates beneath the cooling shade, 
 For fear the tempter might begin 
 To tempt my youthful heart to sin. 
 
3ir MOTHER. 85 
 
 'Twas slie who when I older grew, 
 Showed me the path which to pursue 
 Would wisest be, and lead me straight 
 Through honor's pearl and silver gate, 
 And to a rest at close of life, 
 Eeyond this field of worldly strife. 
 
 And to repay her love for me. 
 
 Shall all my care in future be, 
 
 I'll spend my years of manhood's strength 
 
 To smooth her path, and when at length 
 
 My eyes grow dark in death's eclipse. 
 
 Her name shall last be on my lips. 
 
86 TWILIGHT ON THE POTOMAC. 
 
 ©tviligbt m Wxt f otomat 
 
 HE day is past, the sun has cast 
 P On earth his last long glances, 
 And from afar night's gloomy car. 
 Led by a star, advances. 
 
 Potomac's breast now lies at rest, 
 No foamy vest o'erspreads it, 
 
 Though shakes almost, the tent-clad coast, 
 Beneath the host that treads it. 
 
 With much of din great guns begin 
 
 To thunder in tlie distance. 
 Where traitors learn their fate, and turn. 
 
 Meeting a stern resistance. 
 
TWILIGHT ON THE POTOMAC. 87 
 
 With martial sound the hills resound, 
 For druiDS all round are beating, 
 
 And bugles bray, near and away, 
 And troops obey, retreating. 
 
 But ere the night has vanished quite. 
 And morning light is pouring, 
 
 The foe may come, and bullets hum, 
 And throats now dumb be roaring. 
 
 And eyes now quite as clear and bright 
 As sides when light is breaking. 
 
 May softly close in death's repose, 
 That sleep which knows no waking. 
 
88 SHE WAS EIGHT AND I WAS TEN. 
 
 'he uui^ ^igiit iturt g iiui.ci Sen. 
 
 NE sweet name 1*11 ne'er forget, 
 In a mystic frame 'tis set, 
 And occupies a place apart 
 (a In one corner of my heart ; 
 Til at dear name is Laura Lee, 
 And 'twill e'er be sweet to me, 
 Thongli I parted with her wlien 
 She was eiirlit and I was ten. 
 
 Oft togetlier we have played, 
 AVeaving garlands in the sliade ; 
 Running np and down tlie hill, 
 B}" the bruok that turned the mill ; 
 
SHE WAS EIGHT AND I WAS TEN. 89 
 
 Gazing in the water clear, 
 While its music we could hear 
 Einging sweetly out, for then 
 She was eight and 1 was ten. 
 
 When we wished to cross the stream, 
 Glancing in the morning beam, 
 On our way to a neighbor's cot, 
 1 could wade but she could not ; 
 So what could I do, kind sir. 
 But wade through and carry her? 
 And 1 did so, often, when 
 She was eight and I was ten. 
 
 When the winter snow was deep, 
 And the growing drifts were steep. 
 Seated on my little sled, 
 While the others ran ahead, 
 Her to school I often drew, 
 And then home when school was thro' ; 
 And 'twas all, remember, when 
 She was eis-ht and I was ten. 
 
90 SHE WAS EIGHT AND I WAS TEN. 
 
 Oh ! we were a bappy pair, 
 As such children always are ; 
 And had I been asked to say, 
 "When engaged in merry play. 
 Whether I'd live always so, 
 Or, if I would older grow. 
 Should have wished all life as when 
 She was eight and I was ten. 
 
 But, alas ! it could not be ; 
 Soon she was removed from me ; 
 Years o'er both our heads have rolled, 
 Dark'ning some our locks of gold ; 
 But she lives in memory yet. 
 Her sweet face I'll ne'er forget. 
 Though 1 parted with her when 
 She was eiijht and I was ten. 
 
JUSTICE. 91 
 
 %\\^\m. 
 
 )WAS eve, and the moonlight and 
 O starliglit 
 
 Came down on the wavelets 
 asleep, 
 As soft as the breath of an angel 
 
 On the sad hearts of mourners who weep. 
 » 
 
 The light breeze, which scarce seemed in 
 motion 
 
 O'er valleys and hills in repose, 
 Went burdened with nigtingale music 
 
 And the odors of locust and rose. 
 
92 JUSTICE. 
 
 When down where the lake's gentle pulses 
 To the breeze-hjmn beat time on the 
 shore, 
 
 A young pair of whispering lovers 
 Made vows to be true evermore. 
 
 'Twas late when they parted with blessings, 
 And low beat each sorrowing lieart ; 
 
 And a stray moon-beam flashed on his 
 sword 
 As the weeping youth turned to depart. 
 
 Since then the cold storm-breath of winter 
 Has the forest robe torn and laid low ; 
 
 And the apple-tree boughs in the orchard. 
 Have gloried in purple and snow. 
 
 And far off in green Carolina, 
 
 There 's a grave with no monument o'er ; 
 And another is down by the lake side, 
 
 Wbere the wave-pulses beat on the shore. 
 
JUSTICE. 03 
 
 lie was slain hy the sword of a traitor, 
 When the sun in the heavens shone low ; 
 
 And tlie by the words in the message 
 Whicli told of the innrderons blow. 
 
 And the angel who weighed out the gUiry 
 
 To each one, for sacrifice duo, 
 Let the quantities balance each other, 
 
 And equally smiled on the two. 
 
94: LINES WITH A BOUQUET. 
 
 ^§\\m W\\\\ w §0wquct» 
 
 To Miss F. N- 
 
 ROPS of dew ere long will twinkle 
 
 In the wild woods' budding bowers ; 
 Soon the merry bob-o'-link '11 
 Make his silver song-bells tinkle, 
 And the hand of Spring will sprinkle 
 All the wakino; earth with flowers. 
 
 Let this bunch of scentful glories, 
 With their lips of varied hue, 
 
 Whisper most delightful stories 
 Of those coming days to you. 
 
 Of the wild brook's joyous laughter, 
 As its waters downward pour, 
 
 Each bright wave pursuing after 
 Those that took the leap before. 
 
LINES WITH A BOUQUET. 05 
 
 Of tlic mnsic rich and teiulcr, 
 Melting through the balmy air, 
 
 And the gems of starry splendor, 
 In the sunset's golden hair. 
 
 This is but a glimpse beforehand, 
 Of the glory soon to be ; 
 
 But a foam-crest on the shore-land 
 Of the swelling floral sea. 
 
 As the tidal wave that brought it, 
 Cast it on the snow-clad beach, 
 
 Out I sprang, o'erjoyed, and caught it, 
 As it lay there just in reach. 
 
 Long 1 stood and gazed upon it, 
 And I heard,—" This trophy send, 
 
 With the spray of odor on it, 
 To thy best and fairest friend." 
 
06 LINES WITH A BOUQUET. 
 
 Thus were you made riglitf'iil owner, 
 Take it then, nor doubtini^ stand ;— 
 
 You can hardly deem me donor, 
 For, you see, 'tis by command. 
 
 Aj>ril 2, ISGtt. 
 
hV THE VALLEY, OVER THERE. 97 
 
 gu Wu f ulkjj, #vvv %\\txt. 
 
 [^ AM sittiug on the bordel- 
 lo Of a river deep and wide ; 
 fe) I am gazing on the landscape 
 *^ That is on the other side ; 
 I can see the Hash and gliunner 
 
 Of the water-falls and streams, 
 And the tinted woods all shining 
 
 In, the sunset's ruddy beams ; 
 But one spot in vain I look for — 
 
 Spot beloved and passing fair — 
 It lies just beyond the woodland, 
 In the valley, over there. 
 9 
 
98 IN THE VALLEY, OVER THERE. 
 
 1 have seen wild brooks meaDcler, 
 
 Where tjjie willows bent above, 
 And the sun-beams dancing through them, 
 
 Kissed the waves' white lips in love. 
 I have seen theiii shine and sparkle 
 
 Through the viny groves abroad, 
 While upon their grassy borders, 
 
 Bloomed the wild-flower thoughts of God ; 
 But no brook, howe'er it charmed me, 
 
 For a moment seemed so fair, 
 As the brook that sings all summer. 
 
 In the valley, over there. 
 
 I have gazed on rural dwellings, 
 Twined with blooming vines about. 
 
 Where like bright eyes seemed the windows, 
 Through green lashes glancing out, 
 
 While the breezes, ne'er delighted 
 With so fair a scene before, 
 
LV THE VALLEY, OVER THERE. 99 
 
 Lingered sj)orting 'moiig the blossoms, 
 That were sprinkled round the door ; 
 
 But I never saw a dwelling, 
 In the wide world anywhere, 
 
 That could match the gothic cottage, 
 In the valley, over there. 
 
 I have seen the northern maiden 
 
 Trip the green fields lightly o'er, 
 With her cheeks' hue only equalled, 
 
 By the rose-bud wreath she wore. 
 I have seen the southern beauty, 
 
 On her moss-grown arbor seat. 
 And from 'mong the long, dark lashes. 
 
 Caught her languid glances sweet ; 
 But I ne'er have seen a maiden, 
 
 With such mild yet queenly air, 
 As the maid who?e graces charmed me, 
 
 Jn the valley, over there. 
 
100 AV THE VALLEY, OVER THERE. 
 
 Often wlien tlie breeze was sleepinj^, 
 
 And the branches ceased to stir, 
 I have watched the little rain-bow, 
 
 O'er the water-fall with her ; 
 And wlien light gave place to dai'kncss. 
 
 And the twinkling star-lamps shone, 
 'Mid the evening's dewy splendors, 
 
 "VVe have wandered foith alone. 
 And among the flowers full often, 
 
 At the time of evening prayer. 
 Have we both knelt down too-ether. 
 
 In the valley, over there. 
 
 But when antnnm's magic jiencil, 
 Tinted all the trees last year. 
 
 And the water-fall's clear music 
 Tinkled sweetly on the ear. 
 
 And the leaves began to settle. 
 With a melancholy sonnd, 
 
IN THE VALLEY, OVER THERE. 101 
 
 From the zephjr-shaken branches 
 
 Of the forest to the ground, 
 Down at morn there came an angel ; 
 
 Back at eve returned a pair ; 
 And a shadow darkly settled 
 
 In the valley, over there. 
 
 And as often now I linger, 
 
 'Mid the scenes I used to love, 
 Climbs my heart upon her memory, 
 
 Toward her dwelling place above, 
 And the breezes, wandering sadly, 
 
 'Mong the russet, gold, and flame 
 Of the fields and waving woodlands. 
 
 Seem to murmur forth her name, 
 As they whisper to the willows, 
 
 Bending downward through the air, 
 Toward the green mound and the marble, 
 
 In the valley, over there. 
 
102 VOLNEY. 
 
 IS lamp of life was scarcely lit, 
 Ere death came and extinguished it ; 
 One winter's storm, one summer's 
 bloom, 
 Lay 'twixt his cradle and his tomb. 
 
 ,As though one rav of light at dawn, 
 Might flash on earth and then be gone, 
 And darkened leave the whole extent. 
 Just so his presence came and went. 
 
 As though a star to liglit our track. 
 
 Were sent from heaven and straiglit called 
 
 back, 
 Just so his bright and cheering smile, 
 Shone round us for a little while. 
 
VOLNEY. 103 
 
 Just as a bird with merry tune, 
 Upon a sunny morn in June, 
 Appears and then recedes from view, 
 With pinions fringed with silver dew. 
 
 So he, with bright wings unrevealed. 
 Which all too soon to yon fair field, 
 Where echoing songs harmonious roll, 
 Wafted away his stainless soul. 
 
lOi SOLDIER'S EVENING PRAYER. 
 
 She ^^Idicv'us (Evcuiug f viipv. 
 
 JOWN beside the winding river, 
 Just a little way from camp, 
 Undisturbed by war's wild music, 
 Drum-beat, bugle-blast, or tramp ; 
 Floating out through boughs, and grape- 
 vmes, 
 Hanging tangled in the air, 
 Came the low and earnest accents 
 Of a soldier's evening prayer. 
 
 " Give us victory, oh. Father ! 
 
 Let this prayer in faith addressed — " 
 But the booming of a cannon 
 
 In the distance drowned the rest ; 
 
SOLDIER'S EVENING PRAYER. 105 
 
 And the drums' tiiinultuous rumble, 
 And the bugles' wrathful blare, 
 
 Mingled with the last, low murmurs 
 Of the soldier's evening prayer. 
 
 Soon in line was formed the army ; 
 
 " Forward I" sternly sounded out ; 
 Forth they moved and met the traitors, 
 
 Charged upon them with a shout, 
 And the mighty God of battles, 
 
 Guiding on 'mid crash and glare, 
 Gave them victory in answer 
 
 To the soldier's evening prayer. 
 
106 m MEMORIAAL—F. B. W. 
 
 %\\ ptmaviinir-J. 
 
 -HEN the showers began to sparkle, 
 
 In the zephyr's balmy track, — 
 When the Spring was sowing roses, 
 And the birds were coming back ; 
 Fled her free and happy spirit, 
 
 Through its broken prison bars. 
 From her home among the mountains, 
 To her home beyond the stars. 
 
 I am mourning in the shadow ; 
 
 She is singing in the light ; 
 I am waiting for the angel 
 
 That has called her out of sight 
 
m MEMORIAM.—F. B. W. 107 
 
 I can almost hear the music 
 
 Of her happy voice above ; 
 In my soul I feel the sunshine, 
 
 Of her melting glance of love. 
 
 To the place where she is sleeping, 
 
 In the summer time I'll go. 
 And I'll plant her grave with roses, 
 
 For she loved the roses so, 
 And the birds will come and linger 
 
 In the willows by her tomb, 
 Mingling music with the odor 
 
 Of the roses' dewy bloom. 
 
108 ''PEACE, BE still:' 
 
 " f (a«, §f mv 
 
 r^O ! the ship is moving slowly 
 
 From the shore ; 
 ^^^^^^ It a freight more pure and holy 
 ^ Never bore. 
 
 Mournfully the winds are sighing 
 O'er the deep ; 
 
 But the weary Master 's lying, 
 Fast asleep. 
 
 Storm clouds soon begin to lower, 
 Thick and dark. 
 
 And the tempest in its power, 
 
 Heaves the bark 
 
"PEACE, BE still:' 109 
 
 Soon is heard the tbnnder's fn'o-lifnino: 
 Echoes drend, 
 
 And doth hiss the forked lightning, 
 Over head. 
 
 They 're by billoM's swelling under 
 Hurled amain, 
 
 And the cords are snapped asunder 
 By the strain. 
 
 Until fearing wild disaster, 
 
 Lo, they flee, 
 
 Crying, searching, "V/here 's the Master! 
 AVhere is He !" 
 
 And while still the vessel 's leaping, — 
 
 Spreading fear, 
 Answer comes, — "The Master's sleeping. 
 Quiet here." 
 10 
 
110 'TEACE, BE still:' 
 
 " Oh ! awake Him, then, awake Him ;"- 
 And they shrink, 
 
 " For the billows wild are breaking, 
 And we sink !" 
 
 Mildly rising from his pillows. 
 As a child, 
 
 Gazed He on the roaring billows, 
 Calm and mild. 
 
 Spake He then to storm and ocean,-— 
 " Peace, be still !" 
 
 And they ceased their wild commotion 
 At His will. 
 
 Clouds and billows ceased to wrestle^ 
 "Wrapped in spray, 
 
 And a light breeze bore the vessel 
 On its way. 
 
BATTLE HYMN. Ill 
 
 Suttlc pumit 
 
 ^,- E 'VE left onr dear homes and the 
 
 ^^ ^'^ loved ones behind ns, 
 
 Tlie hnsband his wife and the 
 lover his maid, 
 And taken the post by our country assio;ned 
 us, 
 To wield to defend her the red battle 
 blade ; 
 So for death we '11 prepare and all danger 
 
 will dare, 
 As we march on to battle, and when wo 
 
 are there. 
 Together we 'Jl fight and the victory gain, 
 Or together we '11 die on the red battle 
 plain. 
 
12 BATTLE HYMN. 
 
 War's crimson billows are rolling and 
 bounding, 
 And hui'ling their spray to the storm- 
 si lakeu sky ; 
 The chargers are neighing, the cannons are 
 sonnding, 
 And smoke- wreaths are angrily wheeling 
 on high ; 
 Then let ns away withont farther delay, 
 And when by our captain w^o 're led to the 
 
 fray, 
 Together we 'II fight and the victory gain, 
 Or together we '11 die on the red battle 
 plain. 
 
LAU OUTER. lis 
 
 ^ituflht^v. 
 
 |HE smile is the bud of the full-blown 
 laughter, 
 
 The bud comes first and the bloom 
 comes after ; 
 Down in the heart there 's a genius lingers, 
 With feathery ends to his tickling fingers, 
 And somewhere there, tho' few would sup- 
 pose it. 
 Is a ticklish spot and tlie genius knows it ; 
 He \ a funny chap, too ; yes, ^^r^^ very, 
 And when he 's awake ho is always merry ; 
 lie tickles the spot whenever he pleases, 
 And sometimes ticklea away diseases ; 
 10* 
 
114 LA UOHTER. 
 
 He 's death on the bluos and opposed to 
 
 leanness, 
 And flies from the heart that is given to 
 
 meanness, 
 And in the heart which desertion doth 
 
 suffer. 
 The ticklish spot grows tougher and 
 
 tougher, 
 Till after a while it is perfectly callous, 
 And the victim 's a subject half fit for the 
 
 gallows. 
 The tear-tide of sorrow will frequently swell 
 
 tho', 
 And threaten to drown the poor, innocent 
 
 fellow. 
 And this thing and that he keeps jumping 
 
 up on to. 
 Till he 's furced to clear out tho' perhaps he 
 
 don't want to, 
 "When thus one' s deserted I can't but admit 
 
 he 
 
LAUGHTER. 115 
 
 Is fully deserving of comfort and pity ; 
 And then in the world I have come across 
 
 many, 
 Who 'vc no ticklish spot, and who never 
 
 had any ; 
 Their natnres are sour as would be a barrel 
 Of the double-distilled quintessence of sor- 
 rel, 
 Boiled down till the sour of that wdiole 
 
 amount is 
 Contained in a vial that won't liold three 
 
 ounces ; 
 Whoever they meet they seem ready to 
 
 grapple, 
 And their faces resemble a frozen thawed 
 
 apple. 
 From the lot of such miserly, mean, sour, 
 
 small things. 
 Deliver my body, soul, conscience and all 
 
 things ; 
 I 'd rather be nibbled to death by mus- 
 
 keeters, 
 
116 LA UGIITER. 
 
 Or any other species of liuman kind eaters, 
 Than carry about on my comitenance daily, 
 A frown that knocks down like a Paddy's 
 
 shillelah. 
 Some fancy it is the external surroundings 
 That tickle one more than internal abound- 
 
 ings, 
 But I knew a man once who an hour and 
 
 a half sat, 
 Laughing and laughing with nothing to 
 
 laugh at. 
 And once on a time I saw my uncle Sam'el 
 Laugh, with his eyes shut as tight as a clam 
 
 shell ; 
 No sound was heard, even the jingle of 
 
 money. 
 And nothing was said that was anyways 
 
 funny, 
 lint the smiles kept coming out thicker and 
 
 thicker, 
 Until they passed into a kind of a snicker, 
 
LA UG TITER. 117 
 
 And tlien from .1 snicker tlio}' burst out in 
 
 laughter, 
 And I went away and caine back awhile 
 
 after, 
 Ai:d as tho' something had of his reason 
 
 bereft him. 
 He was laughing as hard as he was when I 
 
 left him. 
 You wlio pay it 's an external something 
 
 that does it, 
 If that wa' n't an internal something, what 
 
 was it? 
 The genius hears things that I have n't a 
 
 doubt of, 
 Tho eyes, too, I fancy he sometimes peeps 
 
 out of; 
 1 can not believe he 's a blind, deaf, or 
 
 dumb thing. 
 He hears something, sometimes, and some- 
 times sees something. 
 And when its a something whicli pleases 
 
 him really, 
 
118 LA UGHTER. 
 
 He makes you laugh harder by tickling 
 
 more freely. 
 It 's a thing which it 's well to indulge in 
 
 quite often, 
 The spirits to raise and the temper to soften, 
 But fearing your patience I 'm trespassing 
 
 on to, 
 ril stop liere and let you all laugh if you 
 
 want to. 
 
THE KISS THAT MY LO VE GA VE ME. 119 
 
 ®h^ |>i,5sss that mij §ovt t\m§\t 
 
 HEN I heard on the morning 
 breeze the sound 
 p§y<3; Of the bugles's martial tone, 
 C^ Full soon were my farewells whis- 
 pered around, 
 And my gun on my shoulder thrown ; 
 And I hastened to join in the war's wild 
 storm, 
 Where the crimson tide flowed free, 
 "While my heart was sad, for my lips were 
 warm 
 With the kiss that my love gave me. 
 
120 THE KISS THAT JIY LOVE GA VE ME. 
 
 Aud now when the shock of battle comes, 
 
 'Mid the clouds of rolling gloom ; 
 And the tramp is heard, and the roll of 
 drums, 
 
 And the cannon's deep-toned boom, 
 It will nerve mj arm with a double might. 
 
 To strike for the brave and free, 
 To think, in the midst of the raging fight, 
 
 Of the kiss that my love gave me. 
 
 And when I shall lie on the crimson sand. 
 
 With a wound in vaj bosom deep. 
 And the cold, red blade in my unnerved 
 hand. 
 
 Which the harvest of death helped reap ; 
 I will feel tiie snapjiing of life's last link, 
 
 With a heart from gloom all free. 
 And close my eyes with a smile, as I think 
 
 Of the kiss tliat my love gave me. 
 
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 
 
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