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THE PICKET.
      He will hear them,
      And anear them
    Will my spirit kneel with theirs.

Nor is darkness all around us; we can thank our God for might,
For the strength which He has given still to struggle for the Right;
For the soul so grandly beating in the nation's onward way,
      For the spirit
      We inherit
    On this new Thanksgiving day!

Still the blue Potomac ripples like a silver thread below,
And amid the sullen darkness rises high the camp-fire's glow;
So I pace the picket lonely, while apart from mortal sight
      Watch I'm keeping
      With the sleeping
    Loved ones far away to-night.