Six songs (Kilmarnock)/The soldier's dream

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THE SOLDIER'S DREAM.

OUR bugles had sung, for the night cloud had lower'd,
⁠And the sentinel stars set the watch in the sky
And thousands had sunk on the ground overpowr'd
⁠The weary to sleep, and the wounded to die.

When reposing that night on my pallet of straw,
⁠By the wolf-scaring faggot, and guarded the slain,
At the dead of the night a sweet vision I saw,
⁠And twice ere the cock crew, I dreamt it again.

Methought from the battle-field's dreadful array,
⁠Far, far I had roam'd on a desolate track,
Till nature and sunshine disclos'd the sweet way
⁠To the house of my father, that welcom'd me back.

I flew to the pleasant fields, travell’d so oft
⁠In life's morning march, when my bosom was young,
I heard my own mountain-goats bleating aloft,
⁠And well knew the strain that the corn-reapers sung.

Then pledg'd we the wine cup, and fondly we swore,
⁠From my home and my weeping friends never to part,
My little ones kiss'd me a hundred times o'er,
⁠And my wife sobb'd aloud in the fulness of heart.

Stay, stay with us! rest! thou art weary and worn,
⁠And fain was the war-broken soldier to stay;
But sorrow return'd with the dawning of morn,
⁠And the voice in my dreaming ear melted away.