 | The heavenly guest with other unpublished writings |  |
40
IN FREDERICKSBURG
In Fredericksburg, when all the troubled town
With war's dread signs and wounded men was filled,
And death among the crowd moved up and down,
And many a soldier's torture touched and stilled,
With war's dread signs and wounded men was filled,
And death among the crowd moved up and down,
And many a soldier's torture touched and stilled,
One, on whose heart such love and pity weighed
For those brave men as could not be expressed,
Where the South's rich red roses stood arrayed
In lavish beauty, made his tender quest.
For those brave men as could not be expressed,
Where the South's rich red roses stood arrayed
In lavish beauty, made his tender quest.
And gathering wealth of blossoms, sought the rooms
Where vainly feverish anguish wooed repose,
Passed soft from couch to couch with those fair blooms
And upon every pillow laid a rose.
Where vainly feverish anguish wooed repose,
Passed soft from couch to couch with those fair blooms
And upon every pillow laid a rose.
They lifted up their saddened, grateful eyes
And blessed him with a look, who could not speak:
Some murmured thanks who never more might rise,
And begged him lay it nearer lip and cheek.
And blessed him with a look, who could not speak:
Some murmured thanks who never more might rise,
And begged him lay it nearer lip and cheek.
The sweet red rose, that they might feel its breath,
Filling the gloom and silence chill and drear,
And in the presence dread of pain and death,
Yet knew that dear familiar beauty near.
Filling the gloom and silence chill and drear,
And in the presence dread of pain and death,
Yet knew that dear familiar beauty near.
And so he passed, and left along his way
Feeling that baffles thought and tongue and pen,
A flutter of pathetic joy, a ray
From the near heaven on those devoted men.
Feeling that baffles thought and tongue and pen,
A flutter of pathetic joy, a ray
From the near heaven on those devoted men.
41
Deep down and close to the heart's fount of tears,
Sweet among sweetest things this memory lies;
He shall not lose, were life a thousand years,
The speechless blessing of those grateful eyes.
Sweet among sweetest things this memory lies;
He shall not lose, were life a thousand years,
The speechless blessing of those grateful eyes.
| The heavenly guest with other unpublished writings | |