“all quiet along the Potomac,” they say,
“Except now and then a stray picket
Is shot, as he walks on his beat to and fro,
By a rifleman hid in the thicket.
’T is nothing—a private or two now and then
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,” they say,
“Except now and then a stray picket
Is shot, as he walks on his beat, to and fro,
By a rifleman hid in the thicket.
’T is nothing: a private or two, now and then,
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.”... -
It stole along so stealthy
Suspicion it was done
Was dim as to the wealthy
Beginning not to own — -
This slow Day moved along —
I heard its axles go
As if they could not hoist themselves
They hated motion so —
I told my soul to come —
It was no use to wait —
We went and played and came again
And it was out of sight —