 | The complete poetical writings of J. G. Holland |  |
XXIII.
There came at length an eve of gloom—
Dread Gettysburg's eventful eve—
When all the gathering clouds of doom
Hung low, the breathless air to cleave
With scream of shell and cannon-boom!
Dread Gettysburg's eventful eve—
When all the gathering clouds of doom
Hung low, the breathless air to cleave
With scream of shell and cannon-boom!
Man knew too well, and woman felt
That when the next wild morn should rise,
A blow of battle would be dealt
Before whose fire ten thousand eyes—
As in a furnace flame—would melt.
That when the next wild morn should rise,
A blow of battle would be dealt
Before whose fire ten thousand eyes—
As in a furnace flame—would melt.
And on this eve—her flock asleep—
Knelt Mildred at her lonely bed.
She could not pray, she did not weep,
But only moaned, and, moaning, said:
“Oh God! he sows what I must reap!
Knelt Mildred at her lonely bed.
She could not pray, she did not weep,
But only moaned, and, moaning, said:
“Oh God! he sows what I must reap!
425
“He will not live: he must not die!
But oh, my poor, prophetic heart!
It warns me that there lingers nigh
The hour when love and I must part!”
And then she startled with a cry,
But oh, my poor, prophetic heart!
It warns me that there lingers nigh
The hour when love and I must part!”
And then she startled with a cry,
For, from beneath her lattice, came
A low and once repeated call!
She knew the voice that spoke her name,
And swiftly through the midnight hall
She fluttered noiseless as a flame,
A low and once repeated call!
She knew the voice that spoke her name,
And swiftly through the midnight hall
She fluttered noiseless as a flame,
And on its unresisting hinge
Threw wide her hospitable door,
To one whose spirit could not cringe
Though he was shelterless, and bore
No right her freedom to infringe.
Threw wide her hospitable door,
To one whose spirit could not cringe
Though he was shelterless, and bore
No right her freedom to infringe.
She wildly clasped his neck of bronze;
She rained her kisses on his face,
Grown tawny with a thousand suns,
And holding him in her embrace,
She led him to her little ones,
She rained her kisses on his face,
Grown tawny with a thousand suns,
And holding him in her embrace,
She led him to her little ones,
Who, reckless of his coming, slept.
Then down the stair with silent feet
And through the shadowy hall she swept,
And saw, between her and the street,
A form that into darkness crept.
Then down the stair with silent feet
And through the shadowy hall she swept,
And saw, between her and the street,
A form that into darkness crept.
She closed the door with speechless dread;
She fixed the bolt with trembling hand;
Then led the rebel to his bed,
Whom love and safety had unmanned,
And left him less alive than dead.
She fixed the bolt with trembling hand;
Then led the rebel to his bed,
Whom love and safety had unmanned,
And left him less alive than dead.
426
Through nights and days of fear and grief,
She kept her faithful watch and ward,
But love and rest brought no relief;
And all he begged for of his Lord
Was death, with passion faint and brief.
She kept her faithful watch and ward,
But love and rest brought no relief;
And all he begged for of his Lord
Was death, with passion faint and brief.
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