The Complete Works of James Whitcomb Riley | ||
EZRA HOUSE
[These lines was writ, in ruther high sperits, jest at the close of what's called the Anti Bellum Days, and more to be a-foolin' than anything else,—though they is more er less facts in it. But some of the boys, at the time we was all a-singin' it, fer Ezry's benefit, to the old tune of “The Oak and the Ash and the Bonny Willer Tree,” got it struck off in the weekly, without leave er lisence of mine; and so sence they's allus some of 'em left to rigg me about it yit, I might as well claim the thing right here and now, so here goes. I give it jest as it appeard, fixed up and grammatisized consider'ble, as the editer told me he took the liburty of doin', in that sturling old home paper The Advance—as sound a paper yit to-day and as stanch and abul as you'll find in a hunderd.]
Of the sad fate of one which I knew so passing well;
He enlisted at McCordsville, to battle in the South,
And protect his country's union; his name was Ezra House.
In regards to Ray's arithmetic, and also Algebra:
He give good satisfaction, but at his country's call
He dropped his position, his Algebra and all.
For he wrote a composition the last day and read;
And it brought many tears in the eyes of the school,
To say nothing of his sweetheart he was going to leave so soon.
Of the merry transpirations in the schoolroom so gay;
And of all that's past and gone I will never regret
I went to serve my country at the first of the outset!”
On that sad occasion was too fine for me to quote,—
For I was there and heard it, and I ever will recall
It brought the happy tears to the eyes of us all.
And said she could never forget the sad day
When her lover so noble, and galliant and gay,
Said “Fare you well, my true love!” and went marching away.
When the sad news come—“he was in a skirmish once,
And a cruel Rebel ball had wounded him full sore
In the region of the chin, through the canteen he wore.”
But whilst he was in battle at Bull Run or Malvern Hill,
The news come again, so sorrowful to hear—
“A sliver from a bombshell cut off his right ear.”
That “he wasn't afraid for his country to fight.”
But oh, had he returned on a furlough, I believe
He would not, to-day, have such cause to grieve.
He was guarding the wagons when an accident occurred,—
A comrade who was under the influence of drink,
Shot him with a musket through the right cheek, I think.
Till a cruel Rebel colonel come riding along,
And struck him with his sword, as many do suppose,
For his cap-rim was cut off, and also his nose.
Snatched him once more from the jaws of the grave;
He sent his picture home to his girl away so far.
“She had seen his face again and was ready to die”;
And she wanted him to promise, when she was in her tomb,
He would only visit that by the light of the moon.
And the boys that got back said he hadn't the heart;
But he got a position in a powder-mill, and said
He hoped to meet the doom that his country denied.
The Complete Works of James Whitcomb Riley | ||