The old spring's waters still are gurgling from the rock

Where famished soldiers knelt—grim Death himself to mock;

Here on that day in ghastly heaps they lay—

Commingling with the Blue the men that wore the Gray!

And now the virgin snow has covered o'er the sod

Where once in fierce array contending armies trod;

The wintry wind makes mournful music through the trees

Where then the clash of arms was floating on the breeze,

And deep-toned guns belched forth the screaming shell

Like fiendish messengers of Death let loose from hell;

Now Nature's peaceful emblem spread o'er glade and hill

Enwraps beneath its folds the bloody field of Perryville.

December 26, 1895.

[Pg 39]

[Pg 39]

LONGINGS.

Gim me back my stone-bruised heel,

And them tow-linen pants,

An' that old pole an' line an' reel,

An' all them boyhood ha'nts,

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