The TATTOO 1 beats,—the lights are gone,
  The camp around in slumber lies,
The night with solemn pace moves on,
  The shadows thicken o’er the skies;
But sleep my weary eyes hath flown,
  And sad, uneasy thoughts arise.

I think of thee, O darling one,
  Whose love my early life hath blest—
Of thee and him—our baby son—...