Across The Lines
Left for dead? I—Charlie Coleman,
On the field we won—and lost,
Like a dog; the ditch my death-bed
My pillow but a log across.
Helpless hangs my arm beside me,
Drooping lies my aching head;
How strange it sounded when that soldier,
Passing, spoke of me as "dead."
Dead? and here—where yonder banner
Flaunts its scanty group of stars,
And that rebel emblem binds me
Close within those bloody bars.
Dead? without a stone to tell it,
Nor a flower above my breast!
Dead? where none will whisper softly,
"Here a brave man lies at rest!"
Help me, Thou, my mother's helper,—
Jesus, Thou who biding here,
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poem by Ethel Lynn Beers from Pen Pictures of the War (1864)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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On the Shores of Tennessee
"Move my arm-chair, faithful Pompey,
In the sunshine bright and strong,
For this world is fading, Pompey,—
Massa won't be with you long;
And I fain would hear the south wind
Bring once more the sound to me,
Of the wavelets softly breaking
On the shores of Tennessee.
"Mournful though the ripples murmur,
As they still the story tell,
How no vessels float the banner
That I've loved so long and well;
I shall listen to their music,
Dreaming that again I see
Stars and Stripes on sloop and shallop
Sailing up the Tennessee.
"And, Pompey, while old Massa's waiting
For Death's last dispatch to come,
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poem by Ethel Lynn Beers from War Pictures (1864)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!