In death’s cold embrace, the soldier sleepeth there,”—
The Soldier’s Grave: By Pearl. (E. V. M. from the Victoria Advocate.)
“’Tis where no chisel’s tracing tells
The humble sleeper’s name,”—
The Soldier’s Heart: By F. P. Beaufort. (S. B. P.)
“The trumpet calls, and I must go,
To meet the vile, invading foe;”—
Soldier’s Lament: By Wm. Lewis, Kauffman Co., Texas. (Alsb.)
“Last Christmas day I left my home, my children and my wife,
Far, far away I had to go, and lead a soldier’s life;”—