Know, then, brother, I am with thee, When the last dread battle's ended, ANONYMOUS. VOLUNTEERED. BEFORE THE FIGHT AT FREDERICK, MO., I KNOW the sun shines, and the lilacs are blowing, It seems but a day since at twilight low humming, It is many a year since my Harry departed, It is many a year-and this afternoon, sitting That, standing beside him this soft May-day morning, The sun making gold of his wreathed cigar-smoke, I saw in his sweet eyes and lips a faint warning, And choked down the tears when he eagerly spoke : "Dear mother, you know those traitors are crowing, They trample the folds of our flag in the dust; The boys are all fire; and they wish I were going-" He stopped, but his eyes said, "Oh say if I must!” I smiled on the boy though my heart seemed breaking: My eyes filled with tears, so I turned them away, And answered him, " Willie, 'tis well you are waking, Go, act as your father would bid you, to-day!" I sit in the window and see the flags flying, And dreamly list to the roll of the drum, I shall sit in the window when Summer is lying And if he should fall-his young life he has given For Freedom's sweet sake-and for me I will pray Once more with my Harry, and Robby in Heaven, To meet the dear boy that enlisted to-day. N. P. WILLIS. WHEN THIS CRUEL WAR IS OVER. RECAPTURE OF THE CITY OF LEXINGTON, MO., DEAREST love, do you remember, How you told me that you loved me, Oh! how proud you stood before me When you vow'd to me and country When the summer breeze is sighing Or when autumn leaves are falling, If amid the din of battle Nobly you should fall, Far away from those who love you, Who would whisper words of comfort? Who would soothe your pain? Ah! the many cruel fancies Ever in my brain. But our country called you, darling, While our nation's sons are fighting, Nobly strike for God and Freedom, Let all nations see How we love the starry banner, Weeping sad and lonely, Praying that we meet again. CHARLES C. SAWYER. BURY HIM LOW AND DEEP. AFTER THE ENGAGEMENT AT BOLIVAR HEIGHTS, VA., OCTOBER 16TH, '61. BURY him low and deep, Where the storm winds ne'er can find him, To trouble his body's sleep, And of his lost world remind him. Bury him low and deep. Nearer the promised to-morrow ; A lock of his hair first sever, GEORGE W. BIRDSEYE. GOD REAPS HIS JUDGMENT. BATTLE OF PILOT KNOB, MO., OCTOBER 16Tн, '61. GOD reaps his judgment-field to-day, In vain a nation's bloody sweat, The lords of treason and the whip If now the echo of that voice Shake down their prison house of wrong, They have their own perfidious choice, For God is good, and Truth is strong. Their steel draws lightning, and the bolt God in their vineyard of Revolt GEORGE S. BURLEIGH. |