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 | Collected poems of Herman Melville |  |
THE RETURNED VOLUNTEER TO HIS RIFLE
Over this hearth—my father's seat—Repose, to patriot-memory dear,
Thou tried companion, whom at last I greet
By steepy banks of Hudson here.
How oft I told thee of this scene—
The Highlands blue—the river's narrowing sheen.
Little at Gettysburg we thought
To find such haven; but God kept it green.
Long rest! with belt, and bayonet, and canteen.
| Collected poems of Herman Melville | |