"Your father was a little lad like you, Not in his teens; and sister running round And prattling every word of love she knew:At such a time, at home, I heard the sound Of fife and drum, that mustering rolled from sea to sea, And patriotic words of Abe that called for me. Then to defend the starry flag I swore The flag for which I saw my country rise Sadly I lingered at my cabin door, And lingering looked through tears to tearful eyes; How could I then from wife and little ones depart, When beating drum was drowned by the beating of my heart! "But Heaven gives strength to man in times like these They said I went for fear the boys would lagBut one acts sometimes better than he sees; And what is home without the patriot's flag? It is a place in which tempestuous tumults roll; Or palace built by man without a human soul. "For this I left to weeds the planted corn, And oft a thought would turn to dear ones left behind, And oft the thought: If killed, will the Nation then be kind? "On Shiloh's bloody field, in Vicksburg's vale, And in the clouds on Lookout's dizzy crest, We met our country's foes, and told the tale Of battles won by soldiers of the West; Then from Atlanta marched for honors yet to be, Until our banners kissed the waters of the sea. "Stayed not the march, but up toward Lee we turned, A thundering, fighting phalanx, 'hot from hell,' But Grant took him for whom our banners burned, And Treason there at Appomattox fell. Sammy, you are well up in school, you know the rest, But I was a Union volunteer and a soldier of the West. "Then came the grand review at Washington, When Peace lit on the flag all battle torn;— And when I think on all the battles lost and won, The comrades dear, and lives and loves outworn, The famous names that live upon the Nation's scroll, The flag is worth them all, the mistress of my soul. "This button is an emblem of the flag; The flag an emblem of a patriot's love; And while my weary hours through life I drag, I'll wear it like a sacred charm above My heart." He ceased; his voice had to a whis per died, While the fond hand, unclasped, had dropped from Sammy's side. His cheek fell soft upon the youthful brow, Like age supported by the youthful limb; "Please tell me more," said Sammy, "please," but now The ear heard not the tender call to him. Life's floating flag was furled o'er drooping head; His soul had joined the "Loyal Legion" of the dead. THE GUEST AT HOME. THERE is a guest true hearted who comes, And spreads o'er my face her curtain of hair; While strains of old songs she soothingly hums. Then on my bosom she tenderly lies, And presses her love-prayer warm to my lip; While softly her dark lashes sweepingly dip Into the deep rivers flooding my eyes. No voice do I hear, no form do I see; No warm hand to press, nor kisses to share; No footfall to greet, and vacant her chair; But still in my home she cometh to me. The world may say I'm alone and forsaken; But little it dreams of the angel who cheers, And brings to me, laden with perfume of years, Both lily and rose, old loves to awaken. THE SAWMILL OF THE GODS. This poem was recited by the author at a banquet given by the alumni of the University of Mich gan, May 23, 1890, at the Coates House, Kansas City. "The mills of the gods grind slow." THE sawmill of the gods saws slowly the tree;- And noiseless it runs as the hourglass of Time; And sharply it cuts, and its work is sublime; For high on Olympus this sawmill doth stand, And ever it runs by an almighty hand. On the timber of mortals it saweth away; Trees that storms and lightning have ruined and rift; Rotten of heart; and slimy deadwood and drift; Old haunts of the vermin, where the woodpecker lurks, Are sawed in this mill where the Almighty works. |