WHERE IS MY BOY TO-NIGHT?
When the clouds in the Western sky
Flush red with the setting sun,—
When the veil of twilight falls,
And the busy day is done,—
I sit and watch the clouds,
With their crimson hues alight,
And ponder with anxious heart,
Oh, where is my boy to-night?
It is just a year to-day
Since he bade me a gay good-by,
To march where banners float,
And the deadly missiles fly.
As I marked his martial step
I felt my color rise
With all a mother's pride,
And my heart was in my eyes.
There's a little room close by,
Where I often used to creep
In the hush of the summer night
To watch my boy asleep.
But he who used to rest
Beneath the spread so white
Is far away from me now,—
Oh, where is my boy to-night?
Perchance in the gathering night,
With slow and weary feet,
By the light of Southern stars,
He paces his lonely beat.
Does he think of the mother's heart
That will never cease to yearn,
As only a mother's can,
For her absent boy's return?
Oh, where is my boy to-night?
I cannot answer where,
But I know, wherever he is,
He is under our Father's care.
May He guard, and guide, and bless
My boy, wherever he be,
And bring him back at length
To bless and to comfort me.
May God bless all our boys
By the camp-fire's ruddy glow,
Or when in the deadly fight
They front the embattled foe;
And comfort each mother's heart,
As she sits in the fading light,
And ponders with anxious heart—
Oh, where is my boy to-night?
A SOLDIER'S VALENTINE.
Just from the sentry's tramp
(I must take it again at ten),
I have laid my musket down,
And seized instead my pen;
For, pacing my lonely round
In the chilly twilight gray,
The thought, dear Mary, came,
That this is St. Valentine's Day.
And with the thought there came
A glimpse of the happy time
When a school-boy's first attempt
I sent you, in borrowed rhyme,
On a gilt-edged sheet, embossed
With many a quaint design,
And signed, in school-boy hand,
"Your loving Valentine."
The years have come and gone,—
Have flown, I know not where,—
And the school-boy's merry face
Is grave with manhood's care;
But the heart of the man still beats
At the well-remembered name,
And on this St. Valentine's Day
His choice is still the same.
There was a time—ah, well!
Think not that I repine
When I dreamed this happy day
Would smile on you as mine;
But I heard my country's call;
I knew her need was sore.
Thank God, no selfish thought
Withheld me from the war.
But when the dear old flag
Shall float in its ancient pride,
When the twain shall be made one,
And feuds no more divide,—
I will lay my musket down,
My martial garb resign,
And turn my joyous feet
Toward home and Valentine.
LAST WORDS.
"DEAR Charlie," breathed a soldier,
"O comrade true and tried,
Who in the heat of battle
Pressed closely to my side;
I feel that I am stricken,
My life is ebbing fast;
I fain would have you with me,
Dear Charlie, till the last.
"It seems so sudden, Charlie,
To think to-morrow's sun
Will look upon me lifeless,
And I not twenty-one!
I little dreamed this morning,
Twould bring my last campaign;
God's ways are not as our ways,
And I will not complain.
"There's one at home, dear Charlie,
Will mourn for me when dead,
Whose heart—it is a mother's—
Can scarce be comforted.
You'll write and tell her, Charlie,
With my dear love, that I
Fought bravely as a soldier should,
And died as he should die.
"And you will tell her, Charlie,
She must not grieve too much,
Our country claims our young lives,
For she has need of such.
And where is he would falter,
Or turn ignobly back,
When Duty's voice cries 'Forward,'
And Honor lights the track?
"And there's another, Charlie
(His voice became more low),
When thoughts of HER come o'er me,
It makes it hard to go.
This locket in my bosom,
She gave me just before
I left my native village
For the fearful scenes of war.
"Give her this message, Charlie,
Sent with my dying breath,
To her and to my banner
I'm 'faithful unto death.'
And if, in that far country
Which I am going to,
Our earthly ties may enter,
I'll there my love renew.
"Come nearer, closer, Charlie,
My head I fain would rest,
It must be for the last time,
Upon your faithful breast.
Dear friend, I cannot tell you
How in my heart I feel
The depth of your devotion,
Your friendship strong as steel.
"We've watched and camped together
In sunshine and in rain;
We've shared the toils and perils
Of more than one campaign;
And when my tired feet faltered,
Beneath the noontide heat,
Your words sustained my courage,
Gave new strength to my feet.
"And once,—'twas at Antietam,—
Pressed hard by thronging foes,
I almost sank exhausted
Beneath their cruel blows,—
When you, dear friend, undaunted,
With headlong courage threw
Your heart into the contest,
And safely brought me through.
"My words are weak, dear Charlie,
My breath is growing scant;
Your hand upon my heart there,
Can you not hear me pant?
Your thoughts I know will wander
Sometimes to where I lie—
How dark it grows! True comrade
And faithful friend, good-by!"
A moment, and he lay there
A statue, pale and calm.
His youthful head reclining
Upon his comrade's arm.
His limbs upon the greensward
Were stretched in careless grace,
And by the fitful moon was seen
A smile upon his face.