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V.
Boys, whose glossy hair
Grows gray in the age of the grave,
Who lie so humble there,
Because you were strong and brave;
You, whose lives cold set
Like a Winter sun ill-timed,
Whose hearts ran down ere yet
The noon of your lives had chimed;
You, who in the sun
Of girlhood's smiles were basking,
Who left fresh hearts all won—
White hands to be had for asking;
You, whose bright true faces
Are dimmed with clouds of dust,
Who hide in the gloomy places,
And cringe in the teeth of rust;
Do you know your fathers are near,
The wrecks of their pride to meet?
Do you know your mothers are here,
To throw their hearts at your feet?
Do you know the maiden hovers
O'er you, with bended knee,
Dreaming what royal lovers
Such lovers as you would be?
Ruins of youthful graces,
Strong buds crushed in Spring,
Lift up your phantom faces,
And see the flowers we bring.
Grows gray in the age of the grave,
Who lie so humble there,
Because you were strong and brave;
You, whose lives cold set
Like a Winter sun ill-timed,
Whose hearts ran down ere yet
The noon of your lives had chimed;
You, who in the sun
Of girlhood's smiles were basking,
Who left fresh hearts all won—
White hands to be had for asking;
You, whose bright true faces
Are dimmed with clouds of dust,
Who hide in the gloomy places,
And cringe in the teeth of rust;
Do you know your fathers are near,
The wrecks of their pride to meet?
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To throw their hearts at your feet?
Do you know the maiden hovers
O'er you, with bended knee,
Dreaming what royal lovers
Such lovers as you would be?
Ruins of youthful graces,
Strong buds crushed in Spring,
Lift up your phantom faces,
And see the flowers we bring.
[RESPONSE.]
We struck our camp at break of day—we marched into the fight;
We laid the rose of pleasure down, and grasped the thorns of right.
We laid the rose of pleasure down, and grasped the thorns of right.
The drum's roll was joy to us; the fife was sweetly shrill;
The waving of our country's flag—it made our pulses thrill.
The waving of our country's flag—it made our pulses thrill.
They cheered us as we walked the streets; they marched us to and fro;
And they who staid spoke loud to us how brave it was to go.
And they who staid spoke loud to us how brave it was to go.
Our faces set with iron deeds that yet were to be done;
Our muskets clean and bright and new, and glistening in the sun;
Our muskets clean and bright and new, and glistening in the sun;
It was so like some tournament—some grander sort of play—
That time we bravely shouldered arms, and marched, marched away!
That time we bravely shouldered arms, and marched, marched away!
There came a sudden dash of tears from those who said good-bye—
We set our teeth together tight, and made them no reply.
We set our teeth together tight, and made them no reply.
There leaped a moisture to our eyes, but Pride was there, on guard,
And would not pass the aching tears that came so fierce and hard.
And would not pass the aching tears that came so fierce and hard.
'Twould never do to droop our heads so early in the fray!
So gallantly we shouldered arms, and marched, marched away.
So gallantly we shouldered arms, and marched, marched away.
But when the cold and cruel night about our tents did creep,
And Memory took the midnight watch, and Pride had gone to sleep,
And Memory took the midnight watch, and Pride had gone to sleep,
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When hard Endurance threw aside the mask that he had worn,
And all we had a day ago seemed ever from us torn,
And all we had a day ago seemed ever from us torn,
And when the boy within us had to perish for the man,
'Twas then the holiday was done—'twas then the fight began!
'Twas then the holiday was done—'twas then the fight began!
Full many arts of agony can Trouble's hand employ;
And none of them but she will use upon a home-sick boy!
And none of them but she will use upon a home-sick boy!
The old house came back to us; and every scene was there,
The bright and cheerful morning hour—the singing and the prayer;
The bright and cheerful morning hour—the singing and the prayer;
(Before us, every olden scene in perfect outline lay;
There never was a view so clear that seemed so far away!)
There never was a view so clear that seemed so far away!)
The neat and tidy noon-time—the evening banquet spread—
The smiles that flew from face to face—the pleasant words we said;
The smiles that flew from face to face—the pleasant words we said;
The evening ramble down the road—'twas then our fight began,
When first the boy within us had to perish for the man!
When first the boy within us had to perish for the man!
The morning broke; and ere the dark retreated from the sun,
Came shuddering through the fresh air a heavy signal-gun;
Came shuddering through the fresh air a heavy signal-gun;
And oh! it was a grand time when, through the battle's cry,
We went, to show, if needs must be, how bravely boys could die!
We went, to show, if needs must be, how bravely boys could die!
It seems so like some brilliant dream—that glory-painted day,
We turned our faces toward the fight, and marched, marched away!
We turned our faces toward the fight, and marched, marched away!
But when, the frantic battle done, we lay amid the slain,
Our blue coats trimmed with crimson blood—our bodies stabbed with pain—
Our blue coats trimmed with crimson blood—our bodies stabbed with pain—
When, with no friend to care for us, we stretched us out to die,
Without a shelter to our heads except the distant sky;
Without a shelter to our heads except the distant sky;
'Twas then the agony of war, in all its woe we knew;
We ordered up our hearts' reserves, and fought the battle through!
We ordered up our hearts' reserves, and fought the battle through!
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But soon, the hand of suffering its heavy weight upbore—
And sweet Relief came near to us, and opened Heaven's door;
And sweet Relief came near to us, and opened Heaven's door;
The spirit brave from every clime gave welcome to their band;
Old heroes smiled into our eyes, and grasped us by the hand!
Old heroes smiled into our eyes, and grasped us by the hand!
We were the honored guests of Heaven—the heroes of the day;
With laurel-wreaths upon our brows, we marched, marched away!
With laurel-wreaths upon our brows, we marched, marched away!
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