Читать книгу The Continental Monthly, Vol. III, No. V, May, 1863 - Various - Страница 4

In the dim and misty shade of the hazel thicket,

    Three soldiers, brave Harry, and Tom with the dauntless eyes,

And light-hearted Charlie, are standing together on picket,

    Keeping a faithful watch 'neath the starry skies.

Silent they stand there, while in the moonlight pale

    Their rifle barrels and polished bayonets gleam;

Nought is heard but the owl's low, plaintive wail,

    And the soft musical voice of the purling stream;

Save when in whispering tones they speak to each other

    Of the dear ones at home in the Northland far away,

Each leaving with each a message for sister and mother,

    If he shall fall in the fight that will come with the day.

Slowly and silently pass the hours of the night,

    The east blushes red, and the stars fade one by one;

The sun has risen, and far away on the right

    The booming artillery tells that the fight is begun.

'Steady, boys, steady; now, forward! charge bayonet!'

    Onward they sweep with a torrent's resistless might;

With the rebels' life-blood their glittering blades are wet,

    And many a patriot falls in the desperate fight.

The battle is ended—the victory won—but where

    Are Harry and Charlie, and Tom with the dauntless eyes,

Who went forth in the morn, so eager to do and to dare?—

    Alas! pale and pulseless they lie 'neath the starry skies.

Together they stood 'mid the storm of leaden rain,

    Together advanced and charged on the traitor knaves,

Together they fell on the battle's bloody plain,

    To-morrow together they'll sleep in their lowly graves.

A father's voice fails as he reads the list of the dead,

    And a mother's heart is crushed by the terrible blow;

Yet there's something of pride that gleams through the tears they shed,

    Pride, e'en in their grief, that their boys fell facing the foe.

And though the trumpet of fame shall ne'er tell their story,

    Nor towering monument mark the spot where they lie,

Yet round their memory lingers an undying glory:

    They gave all they could to their country—they only could die.