“They’re coming home! they’re coming home!—

Those four dear boys of mine—

They’re coming home from out the war:

How bright the sun does shine!”

she, from the bitterness of her soul, takes up the sad lamentation:

“They have fallen! they have fallen!

Where the battle-tempest roared—

Where the blaze of strife was gleaming

On each bayonet and sword.”

As the Ninth Corps was under marching orders, I daily looked for the return of Mrs. May and family, but saw nothing of them until the 25th, when I again took up my abode with them.