Across the Line.
Just as dear to me are mine,
Just as dear are yours to you,
They who stood in battle lines—
Our bonnie boys in gray and blue;
Each with heart for country's call,
Each laid low by cannon ball.
Just as dear are yours to you,
They who stood in battle lines—
Our bonnie boys in gray and blue;
Each with heart for country's call,
Each laid low by cannon ball.
Side by side they lie at rest,
Yours and mine, where hands might clasp;
The sweet wind bloweth from the west,
And catcheth in its friendly grasp
A rare perfume from Southern wands,
And wafts it over Northern lands.
Yours and mine, where hands might clasp;
The sweet wind bloweth from the west,
And catcheth in its friendly grasp
A rare perfume from Southern wands,
And wafts it over Northern lands.
The fairest blossoms of the South
Nod gentle welcome, one by one,
To every Northern river's mouth,
That bids its channels toward the sun,
Its onward course fore'er to run,
From day to day till all is done.
Nod gentle welcome, one by one,
To every Northern river's mouth,
That bids its channels toward the sun,
Its onward course fore'er to run,
From day to day till all is done.
Glad Nature teaches all the way
All bitterness to put aside,
A kindly heart from day to day
To open portals far and wide,
And cordially grasp a brother's hand,
No matter what his creed or land.
All bitterness to put aside,
A kindly heart from day to day
To open portals far and wide,
And cordially grasp a brother's hand,
No matter what his creed or land.
—56—
