As fades the iris after rain In April’s tearful weather, The vision vanished as the strain And daylight died together.
But Memory, waked by Music’s art, Expressed in simple numbers, Subdued the sternest Yankee’s heart, Made light the Rebel’s slumbers.
And fair the form of Music shines— That bright celestial creature— Who still ’mid War’s embattled lines Gave this one touch of Nature.
[Southern.]
FREDERICKSBURG.
(December, 1862.)