ONE AWAY.
117
"I would not flinch, though all the air
Were red with death and flame,—
Though cannon-breaths were in my hair,
And death was busy,—all things I'd dare
For country and her fame!"
Were red with death and flame,—
Though cannon-breaths were in my hair,
And death was busy,—all things I'd dare
For country and her fame!"
The soft night falls,—he breathes a sigh,
He knows his dreams are vain!
But he yearns for the distant battle-sky,
And his old blood stirs to the battle-cry,
And his heart is young again!
He knows his dreams are vain!
But he yearns for the distant battle-sky,
And his old blood stirs to the battle-cry,
And his heart is young again!
ONE AWAY.
The wild winds whistle down the hills' dark gorge;
The leaden air is full of hail and snow;
And, tossed and harassed by the reckless wind,
The drifts to frigid, white-capt mountains grow.
The leaden air is full of hail and snow;
And, tossed and harassed by the reckless wind,
The drifts to frigid, white-capt mountains grow.
The cold is brutal: ice reigns everywhere;
The prisoned streamlet groans in sullen pain;
The mighty river, flowing to the sea,
Struggles in impotence to break its chain.
The prisoned streamlet groans in sullen pain;
The mighty river, flowing to the sea,
Struggles in impotence to break its chain.
It is a night when, thankful unto God
For home and love, we gather round the hearth;
When we would draw in those we care for most
To our embrace, from all the wide, cold earth.
For home and love, we gather round the hearth;
When we would draw in those we care for most
To our embrace, from all the wide, cold earth.
