 | Later Lays and Lyrics |  |
SHENANDOAH VALLEY.
I.
Lo! Shenandoah from its source,And, northward, where it runs its course,
Flows with a mournful murmur, on;
Town-spires have vanished, one by one,
They flash not in the setting sun,
Nor catch the glow of dawn.
II
The reddened hoof of Battle, shodWith thunder, through thy vale hath trod
So often that nor song of bird,
Nor pastoral music as of yore
Is near thy mournful current heard
Imbued with fratricidal gore:
Hearths of once happy homes are cold,
The shepherd finds no flock to fold;
Away marauding bands have spurred
Driving the last steer of the herd,
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Where raged the roar and rush of strife,
Save, howling for the hand that fed,
The watch-dog with his famished form,
Or wanderer, in affluence bred,
Without a place to lay his head,
Or house him from the storm.
III.
The smithy lies in ruin low,The bellows hath forgot to blow;
Unstirred by bell-stroke in the air
When Sabbath brings a call to prayer;
Hushed is the clatter of the mill—
The hum of Industry is still;
A pall is o'er the hamlet thrown,
Gray ashes mark its site alone;
And grim with half-uncovered graves,
Too thick to number like thy waves,
Are fields of mortal conflict seen
The wolf alluring from his lair
To hold, with flocking ravens, there
A carnival obscene.
IV.
Wyoming! valley, famed in song,Where right waged war with lawless wrong,
Thou wert a region of delight,
When o'er thy memorable fight,
Compared with Shenandoah's vale
Where every land-mark tells a tale
Of ruin, wo and blight.
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Heir-looms that told of “Long Ago,”
Gay Cavaliers, and courtly dames
Were flung, rich fuel, to the flames.
While bivouacked the foe.
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