76
THE LAST OF SIX
He sprang to join the three months' men. I could not say him nay,
Though my heart stood still within me when I saw him march away;
At the corner of the street he smiled, and waved the flag he bore;
I never saw him smile again—he was slain at Baltimore.
Though my heart stood still within me when I saw him march away;
At the corner of the street he smiled, and waved the flag he bore;
I never saw him smile again—he was slain at Baltimore.
They sent his body back to me, and as we stood around
His grave, beside his father's, in yonder burial-ground,
John laid his hand upon my arm and whispered, "Mother dear,
I have Willy's work and mine to do. I cannot loiter here."
His grave, beside his father's, in yonder burial-ground,
John laid his hand upon my arm and whispered, "Mother dear,
I have Willy's work and mine to do. I cannot loiter here."
I turned and looked at Paul, for he and John were twins, you know,
Born on a happy Christmas, four-and-twenty years ago;
I looked upon them both, while my tears fell down like rain,
For I knew what one had spoken, had been spoken by the twain.
Born on a happy Christmas, four-and-twenty years ago;
I looked upon them both, while my tears fell down like rain,
For I knew what one had spoken, had been spoken by the twain.
In a month or more they left me—the merry, handsome boys,
Who had kept the old house ringing with their laughter, fun, and noise.
Then James came home to mind the farm; my younger sons were still
Mere children, at their lessons in the school-house on the hill.
Who had kept the old house ringing with their laughter, fun, and noise.
Then James came home to mind the farm; my younger sons were still
Mere children, at their lessons in the school-house on the hill.
O days of weary waiting! O days of doubt and dread!
I feared to read the papers, or to see the lists of dead;
I feared to read the papers, or to see the lists of dead;
