CHICKAMAUGA.

They are camped on Chickamauga!

Once again the white tents gleam

On that field where vanished heroes

Sleep the sleep that knows no dream.

There are shadows all about them

Of the ghostly troops to-day,

But they light the common campfire—

Those who wore the blue and gray.

Where the pines of Georgia tower,

Where the mountains kiss the sky,

On their arms the nation’s warriors

Wait to hear the battle cry.

Wait together, friends and brothers,

And the heroes ’neath their feet

Sleep the long and dreamless slumber

Where the flowers are blooming sweet.

Sentries, pause, yon shadow challenge!

Rock-ribbed Thomas goes that way—

He who fought the foes unyielding

In that awful battle fray.

Yonder pass the shades of heroes,

And they follow where Bragg leads

Through the meadows and the river,

But no ghost the sentry heeds.

Field of fame, a patriot army

Treads thy sacred sod to-day!

And they’ll fight a common foeman,

Those who wore the blue and gray,

And they’ll fight for common country,

And they’ll charge to victory

’Neath the folds of one brave banner—

Starry banner of the free!

They are camped on Chickamauga,

Where the green tents of the dead

Turn the soil into a glory

Where a nation’s heart once bled;

But they’re clasping hands together

On this storied field of strife—

Brothers brave who meet to battle

In the freedom-war of life!

—Baltimore News.