War Poetry of the South by Various


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Page 171



I.


Bowing her head to the dust of the earth.
Smitten and stricken is she,
Light after light gone out from her hearth,
Son after son from her knee.
Bowing her head to the dust at her feet,
Weeping her beautiful slain,
Silence! keep silence, for aye in the street,
See! they are coming again.



II.


Coming again, oh! glorious ones,
Wrapped in the flag of the free;
Queen of the South! bright crowns for thy sons,
Only the cypress for _thee!_
Laurel, and banner, and music, and drum,
Marches, and requiems sweet;
Silence! keep silence! alas, how they come,
Oh! how they move through the street!



III.


Slowly, ah! mournfully, slowly they go,
Bearing the young and the brave,
Fair as the summer, but white as the snow
Bearing them down to the grave.
Some in the morning, and some in the noou,
Some in the hey-day of life;
Bower nor blossom, nor summer nor June,
Wooing them back to the strife.



IV.


Some in the billow, afar, oh! afar,
Staining the waves with their blood;
One on the vessel's high deck, like a star,
Sinking in glory's bright-flood.[1]
Bowing her head to the dust of the earth,
Humbled but honored is she,
lighting the skies with the stars from her hearth,
Who shall her comforter be?



V.


Bring her, oh! bring her the garments of woe,
Sackcloth and ashes for aye;
Winds of the South! oh, a requiem blow,
Sighing and sorrow to-day.
Sprinkle the showers from heaven's blue eyes
Wide o'er the green summer lea,
Rachel is weeping, oh! Lord of the skies,
Thou shalt her comforter be!


[1] Captain Thomas Pelot, C. S. N., killed at the capture of the
"Water Witch."




Bull Run.--A Parody.


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Books | Photos | Paul Mutton | Fri 16th Jan 2026, 14:11