Poetical Pen-pictures of the War: Selected from Our Union Poets

The editor, 1864 - 408 ˹

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˹ 34 - Were half the power that fills the world with terror, Were half the wealth bestowed on camps and courts, Given to redeem the human mind from error, There were no need of arsenals or forts: The warrior's name would be a name abhorred!
˹ 183 - Far away in the cot on the mountain. His musket falls slack, his face, dark and grim, Grows gentle with memories tender, As he mutters a prayer for the children asleep, For their mother, may Heaven defend her...
˹ 183 - ALL quiet along the Potomac," they say, "Except, now and then, a stray picket Is shot as he walks on his beat to and fro, By a rifleman hid in the thicket. 'Tis...
˹ 66 - Your comrades chase e'en now the fliers, And, but for you, possess the field. For while the tired waves, vainly breaking, Seem here no painful inch to gain, Far back, through creeks and inlets making, Comes silent, flooding in, the main. And not by eastern windows only, When daylight comes, comes in the light; In front, the sun climbs slow, how slowly, But westward, look, the land is bright.
˹ 230 - Lord, how beautiful was Thy day ! Every waft of the air Was a whisper of prayer, Or a dirge for the dead. Ho ! brave hearts that went down in the seas ! Ye are at peace in the troubled stream ; Ho ! brave land ! with hearts like these, Thy flag, that is rent in twain, Shall be one again, And without a seam ! SNOW-FLAKES.
˹ 34 - The soldiers' revels in the midst of pillage; The wail of famine in beleaguered towns; The bursting shell, the gateway wrenched asunder, The rattling musketry, the clashing blade; And ever and anon, in tones of thunder The diapason of the cannonade.
˹ 66 - Say not the struggle nought availeth, The labour and the wounds are vain, The enemy faints not, nor faileth. And as things have been they remain. If hopes were dupes, fears may be liars ; It may be, in yon smoke concealed, Your comrades chase e'en now the fliers, And, but for you, possess the field.
˹ 184 - For their mother may Heaven defend her! The moon seems to shine just as brightly as then, That night when the love yet unspoken Leaped up to his lips when low, murmured vows Were pledged to be ever unbroken ; Then drawing his sleeve roughly over his eyes, He dashes off tears that are welling, And gathers his gun closer up to its place, As if to keep down the heart-swelling.
˹ 32 - Ere your heritage be wasted,' said the quick alarming drum. 'Let me of my heart take counsel: War is not of life the sum; Who shall stay and reap the harvest When the autumn days shall come ? But the drum Echoed, 'Come! Death shall reap the braver harvest,' said the solemn-sounding drum.
˹ 230 - As hail rebounds from a roof of slate, Rebounds our heavier hail From each iron scale Of the monster's hide. "Strike your flag!" the rebel cries, In his arrogant old plantation strain, "Never!" our gallant Morris replies; "It is better to sink than to yield !" And the whole air pealed With the cheers of our men.