And the dew-drops that sparkle no jewels surpass!

In Springtime at evening, at morning, at noon,

How sweet is the scent of the apple trees' bloom!

[Pg 19]

And when Summer is gone, and Autumn has shed

It's soft, dreamy haze through the trees overhead,

On each spreading branch where blossoms now cling

The red and the gold to the fruit it will bring,

And stripe with a skill and give it that blush

Only Nature can paint with her delicate brush!

O when life ebbs away, then make me a tomb

Right out in the orchard, where the apple trees bloom!

[Pg 20]

[Pg 20]

CHICKAMAUGA.

To Chattanooga's vale, where flows the winding Tennessee,

And rugged Lookout sentinels heroic dust of sixty-three—

Where Chickamauga's gory field re-echoed to the cannon's roar,

And shot and shell through serried ranks a bloody pathway tore,

And mountain slope and wood and field were lumined with the blaze

 Prev. P 14/105 next