Then in the wintry twilight air
His "coat of grey" the chaplain drew,
Leaving his own chilled body bare,
To warm the dying boy in blue.
The soldier turned with softened look,
With quivering lip, and moistened eye,
And said: "If you, in all that book
Can find for me the reasons why,
A rebel chaplain such as you,
Should show the kindness you have shown
To one who wears the Union blue,
I'll hear them gladly, every one."
In tender tones the good man read
Of love and life beyond the grave,
And then in earnest prayer he plead
That God would pity, heal and save.
Above the "Blue"—above the "Grey"
Shone no Cathedral's lofty spire,
Yet I am sure the songs that day
Were chanted by an Angel Choir.
The evening darkened into night,
The shadows fell on wold and strand,
But in their hearts gleamed softer light
Than ever shone on sea or land.
And ere the wintry night was o'er,
Beyond the sunset's purpled hue,
The stars rose on a fairer shore
To greet the dying boy in blue.
Long years have come and gone since then,
Long years the good man lived to bless
With kindly deed, his fellow men,
And then to die in perfect peace.
And when in Heaven's eternal day,
They met before His throne of light,
There was no blue, there was no grey,
For both were robed in God's own white.
Transcriber's Note: Obvious errors in spelling and punctuation have been silently corrected in this HTML version.