The Women of the Confederacy

by J. L. Underwood

THE ANGEL OF THE HOSPITAL

[From the Gray Jacket, pages 143-146.]

’Twas nightfall in the hospital. The day,

As though its eyes were dimmed with bloody rain

From the red clouds of war, had quenched its light,

And in its stead some pale, sepulchral lamps

Shed their dim lustre in the halls of pain,

And flitted mystic shadows o’er the walls.

No more the cry of “Charge! On, soldiers, on!”