Page images

Died at Stone River.

HEN traitors struck this mighty nation

Such a blow her temple trembled, Abram called her loyal sons;

From the north they soon assembled To meet her bold, rebellious ones.

Among the troops that volunteered

Was a fair and lovely one,
A treasure of a northern household-

A boy sixteen, an only son.


The word to come was quickly given

That tore the household wreaths apart; Mothers tried to bear the anguish,

Strove to shield a noble heart.

In that sad and lonely dwelling,

A mother pressed her darling boy, Upon his cheek she placed a kiss

In his hand she placed a token: “Where ere you go you'll think of this;

“Go my son, your country calls.

'Tis not for fame nor shining gold, But to shield our blood-bought liberty

Our fathers won in days of old!"

The sad good bys were quickly given,

The train went speeding through the air, Some it bore from home forever,

Some a prison pen to share.

Loyal hearts will all remember,

When they nobly took the field, 'Twas that beautiful September,

And the war trump's loudly pealed!

Oh! how grand they seemed while passing

To the front, where troops were massing;



Loyal from disloyal classing.

Brothers of one mighty nation, Accursed slavery rent assunder;

For it the innocent did suffer. Where shells did burst and cannons thunder.

They were passing scenes, enchanting

Scenes, which some would see no more. Then they joined the third division,

Third brigade and fourteenth corps;

And they won some gems worth naming,

Honors true and nobly gaining For themselves, reward maintaining,

And their nation's flag sustaining.

Through Kentucky and the wilds of Tenn

essee, Where with Buell as commander, They assumed supremacy.

At Mill Spring, and Pittsburg Landing, And other points they won renown,

Till Stanton said "you're superceeded,

You must lay your saber down.!"

Then with Rosy as commander,

They, the patriotic host, Prepared to meet that rebel leader,

That was known from coast to coast.

In the fight, when stout hearts faltered,

Shrank from the outnumbering host, Among the sons that bled for freedom,

Died ere they would leave their post, Was that true and noble one.

At the first he missed the bullets,

While at his side his comrades fell; But ere the sound of victory echoed

Through the woods and down the dell, A ball had struck him, and he faltered

Called a comrade ere he fell:

“Bear a message to my mother

Lo! she waits to hear from me



That I filled the post of duty,

From the foe did never flee!

"Tell her I was in the battle,

In the thickest of the fight;
The foe was fighting for secession,

We were battling for the right.

“I am wounded, deeply wounded,

For my country's sake I've fell; This will bring you years of sorrow,

For it is my last farewell!

"I will bear the last great struggle,

That which mortals fear and dread, If you'll always say of treason,

, Crush that fiery serpent's head!

"Do not break your heart with weeping;

I will trust the gracious giver.
The hand of death is o'er me creeping, -

I am dying on Stone River!”

« PreviousContinue »