 | Later Lays and Lyrics |  |
THE MOTHER'S APPEAL.
I.
“Bring back my dead!”Thus cried the mother of a boy
Who fell in battle slain;
Source of her greatest hope and joy
For whom she wails in vain.
II.
“Bring back my dead!”Beneath our starry banner's fold
He yielded up his life—
Alas! for such a heart grown cold
In this infernal strife.
III.
“Bring back my dead!”He was an infant in my lap,
I nursed him on my breast;
Although he wore no shoulder strap
He battled with the best.
107
IV.
“Bring back my dead!”My lips have touched the bitter cup
Of sorrow and despair;
His precious life is offered up,
The loss I cannot bear.
V.
“Bring back my dead!”His sister has a lonely grave,
No buried brother nigh;
Give my young warrior a grave
Beneath his native sky.
VI.
“Bring back my dead!”The Rappahannock rolls its flood
Where comrades dug his grave,
And in his blanket, soaked with blood,
He sleeps—bring back my Brave!
VII.
“Bring back my dead!”Far dearer are the cold remains
Than any living one;
On thy bright memory are no stains
Of guilt, my darling son!
VIII.
“Bring back my dead!”The leaves of autumn, far away,
Fall on the burial-mound;
Secession's curse is on the clay,
It is unholy ground.
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IX.
“Bring back my dead!”Victorious over death and night
The cannon rung his knell;
A martyr in the cause of right
My beardless hero fell.
X.
“Bring back my dead!”Uncoffined on the field he sleeps,
My Beautiful and Brave,
And watch Columbia's Genius keeps
Beside his unmarked grave.
XI.
“Bring back my dead!”In soil by foul Rebellion cursed
He cannot slumber well;
Here in this valley was he nursed,
Here toll his funeral bell.
XII.
“Bring back my dead!”I see him in my nightly dreams,
His brow is fresh and fair;
Endowed with health and hope he seems,
No mark of carnage there.
XIII.
“Bring back my dead!”Far dearer are his cold remains
Than any living one;
On his bright memory are no stains
Bring back, bring back my son!
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