Out of the clover and blue-eyed grass
He turned them into the river-lane;
One after another he let them pass,
Then fastened the meadow bars again.
Under the willows, and over the hill,
He patiently followed their sober pace;
The merry whistle for once was still,
And something shadowed the sunny face.
Only a boy! and...
[May 4 to December 21, 1864] 1
OUR camp-fires shone bright on the mountains
That frowned on the river below,
While we stood by our guns in the morning
And eagerly watched for the foe,
When a rider came out of the darkness
That hung over the mountain and tree,
And shouted, “Boys, up and be ready!
For Sherman will march to...
Five Forks, April 1, 1865
HO! pony. Down the lonely road
Strike now your cheeriest pace!
The woods on fire do not burn higher
Than burns my anxious face;
Far have you sped, but all this night
Must feel my nervous spur;
If we be late, the world must wait
The tidings we aver:—
To home and hamlet, town and hearth,...
SAY, 1 darkeys, hab you seen de massa,
Wid de muffstash on he face,
Go long de road some time dis mornin’,
Like he gwine leabe de place?
He see de smoke way up de ribber
Whar de Lincum gunboats lay;
He took he hat an’ leff berry sudden,
And I spose he ’s runned away.
De massa run, ha, ha!
De darkey stay...
Furl that Banner, for ’t is weary;
Round its staff ’t is drooping dreary:
Furl it, fold it,—it is best;
For there ’s not a man to wave it,
And there ’s not a sword to save it,
And there ’s not one left to lave it
In the blood which heroes gave it,
And its foes now scorn and brave it:
Furl it, hide it,—let it rest!
There hangs a sabre, and there a rein,
With a rusty buckle and green curb chain;
A pair of spurs on the old gray wall,
And a mouldy saddle—well, that is all.
Come out to the stable—it is not far;
The moss grown door is hanging ajar.
Look within! There ’s an empty stall,
Where once stood a charger, and that is all.
The good...
Within the sober realm of leafless trees,
The russet year inhaled the dreamy air;
Like some tanned reaper, in his hour of ease,
When all the fields are lying brown and bare.
The gray barns looking from their hazy hills,
O’er the dun waters widening in the vales,
Sent down the air a greeting to the mills
On the dull thunder of...
[The Spanish-American War, 1898]
A CHEER and salute for the Admiral, and here ’s to the Captain bold,
And never forget the Commodore’s debt when the deeds of might are told!
They stand to the deck through the battle’s wreck when the great shells roar and screech—
And never they fear when the foe is near to practise what they preach:
But off with your hat...
A Fragment
[May 1, 1898]
BY Cavité on the bay
’T was the Spanish squadron lay;
And the red dawn was creeping
O’er the city that lay sleeping
To the east, like a bride, in the May.
There was peace at Manila,
In the May morn at Manila,—
When ho, the Spanish admiral
Awoke to find our line
Had passed by gray...
Daughter of God! that sitt’st on high
Amid the dances of the sky,
And guidest with thy gentle sway
The planets on their tuneful way;
Sweet Peace! shall ne’er again
The smile of thy most holy face,
From thine ethereal dwelling-place,
Rejoice the wretched, weary race
Of discord-breathing men?
Too long, O gladness-giving...
