Poems of Purpose and Sketches in Prose of Scottish Peasant Life and Character in Auld Langsyne, Sketches of Local Scenes and Characters, With a Glossary. By Janet Hamilton |
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THE BLOODY BOUQUET ON THE ROAD
TO RICHMOND. |
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 | Poems of Purpose and Sketches in Prose |  |
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THE BLOODY BOUQUET ON THE ROAD TO RICHMOND.
Swept the storm of battle by,
'Neath Virginia's glowing sky;
Left alone to bleed and die,
Lay a wounded boy.
From the battle-field he crept—
Found a couch of flowers and slept;
Shall he die alone, unwept,
A widowed mother's joy?
'Neath Virginia's glowing sky;
Left alone to bleed and die,
Lay a wounded boy.
From the battle-field he crept—
Found a couch of flowers and slept;
Shall he die alone, unwept,
A widowed mother's joy?
Now the blood had ceased to flow
From the gash that scarred his brow—
Grasping an o'erhanging bough,
Half reclined he lay.
Clotted blood had sealed his eyes:
He wiped it; then, with sweet surprise,
Gazed on flowers whose rainbow dyes
Adorned each pendant spray.
From the gash that scarred his brow—
Grasping an o'erhanging bough,
Half reclined he lay.
Clotted blood had sealed his eyes:
He wiped it; then, with sweet surprise,
Gazed on flowers whose rainbow dyes
Adorned each pendant spray.
The showering petals off he threw—
Fragrant cups that brimm'd with dew,
To his parched lips he drew—
A life-reviving treasure.
Nature, in her kindly arms,
Held the boy: her simple charms
Soothed his pains, forbade alarms,
And brimm'd his eyes with pleasure.
Fragrant cups that brimm'd with dew,
To his parched lips he drew—
A life-reviving treasure.
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Held the boy: her simple charms
Soothed his pains, forbade alarms,
And brimm'd his eyes with pleasure.
“Lovely flowers!” he cried, “how sweet!”
Vain he strove to gain his feet;
Shall the mother ever greet,
With fond embrace, her boy!
Help was near: a party found
The youth, and raised him from the ground—
Bathed and dressed each festered wound,
And sent him on with joy.
Vain he strove to gain his feet;
Shall the mother ever greet,
With fond embrace, her boy!
Help was near: a party found
The youth, and raised him from the ground—
Bathed and dressed each festered wound,
And sent him on with joy.
In his hand a bouquet rare
Held he—Southern violets fair—
Lilies of the vale were there—
He culled them where he lay.
Nature's charms have magic power,
Even in dread and dangerous hour—
Hue, or fragrance of a flower,
May cheer the saddest day.
Held he—Southern violets fair—
Lilies of the vale were there—
He culled them where he lay.
Nature's charms have magic power,
Even in dread and dangerous hour—
Hue, or fragrance of a flower,
May cheer the saddest day.
| Poems of Purpose and Sketches in Prose | |