“Shine, silver moon, o’er land and water,
Shine o’er valley, plain and hill;”—
The Mother to her Son in the Trenches at Petersburg: By W. D. Porter. (E. V. M.)
“The winter night is dark and still
The winter rains the trenches fill,”—
Mother Would Comfort Me: (C. C.)
“Wounded and sorrowful, far from my home,
Sick, among strangers, uncared for, unknown,”—
The Mother’s Farewell: Air, “Jeannette and Jeanot.” (J. M. S.)
“You are going to leave me, darling,