“Were all like thee, kind lady, void of hates,
And swayed by gentle wish and peaceful thought,
No gulf would yawn between contending States,
No rain would be wrought.
“May all thy matron’s heart, with joy run o’er
For children spared to bless thy lengthened years—
Peace in thy home, and plenty at thy door,
And smiles, to dry all tears.
“And may each cheering hope and soothing word
That thou to us sad prisoners hast given,