Will not count in the news of the battle;
Not an officer lost—only one of the men,
Moaning out all alone the death rattle.”
All quiet along the Potomac to-night,
Where the soldiers lie peacefully dreaming;
Their tents in the rays of the clear Autumn moon,
Or the light of the watchfires are gleaming.
A tremulous sigh, as the gentle light wind
Through the forest leaves softly is creeping;
While stars up above with their glittering eyes