faltered,—        I felt his mute appeal; I paused—if you are a mother, You know what mothers feel, When called to yield their dear ones To the cruel bullet and steel. My heart stood still for a moment, Struck with a mighty woe; A faint as of death came o'er me, I am a mother, you know, But I sternly checked my weakness, And firmly bade him "Go."       Wherever the fight is fiercest I know that my boy will be; Wherever the need is sorest Of the stout arms of the free. May he prove as true to his country As he has been true to me. My home is lonely without him, My hearth bereft of joy,      The thought of him who has left me My constant sad employ; But God has been good to the mother,—        She shall not blush for her boy. 

  

       WHERE IS MY BOY TO-NIGHT?     

      When the clouds in the Western sky Flush red with the setting sun,—      When the veil of twilight falls, And the busy day is done,—      I sit and watch the clouds, With their crimson hues alight, And ponder with anxious heart, Oh, where is my boy to-night? It is just a year to-day Since he bade me a gay good-by, To march where banners float, And the deadly missiles fly. As I marked his martial step I felt my color rise With all a mother's pride, And my heart was in my eyes. There's a little room close by, Where I often used to creep In the hush of the summer night To watch my boy asleep. But he who used to rest Beneath the spread so white Is far away from me now,—        Oh, where is my boy to-night? Perchance in the gathering night, With slow and weary feet, By the light of Southern stars, He paces his lonely beat. Does he think of the mother's heart That will never cease to yearn, As only a mother's can, For her absent boy's return? Oh, where is my boy to-night? I cannot answer where, But I know, wherever he is, He is under our Father's care. May He guard, and guide, and bless My boy, wherever he be, And bring him back at length To bless and to comfort me. May God bless all our boys By the camp-fire's ruddy glow, Or when in the deadly fight They front the embattled foe; And comfort each mother's heart, As she sits in the fading light, And ponders with anxious heart—        Oh, where is my boy to-night? 

  

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