IN THE SHADOW OF ROUND TOP. 383 



His the lot to bear and suffer, though a soul of highest worth, 

 Toilin- ever, baffled often, still his genial smile came forth 

 Sad exemplar of the passage, " Our rewards are not of earth. 

 Though with soul of highest worth. 



And among those tents he wandered, patriarch like of olden time. 

 Seeking in their sad recesses him who in his manhoods prime. 

 In that valley heard his death-knell ringing in the batteries chime. 

 Heard it in his manhood's prime. 



And at last his weary vision rests on a familiar face. 

 Staring forthwith wistful glances from that suffermg-haunted place. 

 And the seeker and the sought-for joyful, agonized embrace, 

 In that suffering-haunted place. 



Now the lost was found, but succor want, neglect had made in vain. 

 And the stream of life was ebbing slowly to its fount again ; _ _ 

 While delirium's weird, wild fancies o'er him had begun their reign. 

 Want, neglect made help m vain. 



Now amid the social triumphs of his former life they dwell, 

 Now his songs, his pupils chanting, in a soothing cadence swell, 

 Now, above the crash of battle, comes the foeman s demon yell ; 

 Comes, alas ! to break the spell. 



And he hears his comrades answering with defiant, ringing shout 

 Till the scenes and sounds commingle which encompass him about, 

 And they die to softest murmurs and his lamp of light goes out- 

 Darkens to illumine doubt ! 



Now afar that hero-martyr bears that pilgrim in his woe, 

 To the vale where passed his childhood by the river's murmuriiig flow 

 Where the remnant of a household-wide war-scattered-lay him low 

 Near the river's murmuring flow. 



No funeral pomp surrounds him, o'er his grave fires no platoon. 

 No bright flags enfold his coffin, drum nor trumpet ring no tune, 

 As they lay him with his brothers on that summer's afternoon. 

 Drum nor trumpet ring no tune. 



