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Page 156
XI.
Then the Georgian, speaking softly,
Said: "A brown-eyed little one
Used to wait among the roses,
For _me_, when the day was done;
And amid the early fragrance
Of those blossoms, fresh and sweet,
Up and down the old verandah
I would chase my darling's feet.
But on earth no more the beauty
Of her face my eye shall greet,
Nevermore I'll hear the music
Of those merry pattering feet--
Ah, the solemn starlight, falling
On the far-off Georgia bloom,
Tells no tale unto my darling
Of her absent father's doom."
XII.
Through the tears that rose between them
Both were trying grief to smother,
As they clasped each other's fingers
Whispering: _"Let's forgive each other."_
XIII.
When the morning sun was walking
"Up the gray stairs of the dawn,"
And the crimson east was flushing
All the forehead of the morn,
Pitying skies were looking sadly
On the "once proud, happy land,"
On the Southron and the Northman,
Holding fast each other's hand.
Fatherless the golden tresses,
Watching 'neath the old plum-tree;
Fatherless the little Georgian
Sporting in unconscious glee.
Chicago Journal of Commerce, June, 1868.
Our Confederate Dead.
What the Heart of a Young Girl Said to the Dead Soldier.
By a Lady of Augusta, Geo.
Unknown to me, brave boy, but still I wreathe
For you the tenderest of wildwood flowers;
And o'er your tomb a virgin's prayer I breathe,
To greet the pure moon and the April showers.
I only know, I only care to know,
You died for me--for me and country bled;
A thousand Springs and wild December snow
Will weep for one of all the SOUTHERN DEAD.
Perchance, some mother gazes up the skies,
Wailing, like Rachel, for her martyred brave--
Oh, for her darling sake, my dewy eyes
Moisten the turf above your lowly grave.
The cause is sacred, when our maidens stand
Linked with sad matrons and heroic sires,
Above the relics of a vanquished land
And light the torch of sanctifying fires.
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