Said the farmer, “Say no more,
But rest thee here at my cottage porch,
For thy feet are weary and sore.”
“I was with Grant—” the stranger said;
Said the farmer, “Nay, no more,—
I prithee sit at my frugal board.
And eat of my humble store.
“How fares my boy,—my soldier boy,
Of the Old Ninth Army Corps?
I warrant he bore him gallantly