Page:Poems Dorr.djvu/95

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THE LAST OF SIX
Come in; you are welcome, neighbor; all day I've been alone,
And heard the wailing, wintry wind sweep by with bitter moan;
And to-night beside my lonely fire, I mutely wonder why
I, who once wept as others weep, sit here with tearless eye.

To-day this letter came to me. At first I could not brook
Upon the unfamiliar lines by strangers penned, to look;
The dread of evil tidings shook my soul with wild alarm—
But Harry's in the hospital, and has only lost an arm.

He is the last—the last of six brave boys as e'er were seen!
How short, to memory's vision, seem the years that lie between
This hour and those most blessed ones, when round this hearth's bright blaze
They charmed their mother's heart and eye with all their pretty ways!

My William was the eldest son, and he was first to go.
It did not at all surprise me, for I knew it would be so,
From that fearful April Sunday when the news from Sumter came,
And his lips grew white as ashes, while his eyes were all aflame.