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That is why I still am sighing as the deep gray shadows
fall, As the twilight spirit settles down her shadows in the hall, And I'm praying for the soldier from a soul with sorrow
sore, For our soldier boys have left us—gone, perchance, to come
no more. |
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THE BATTLE OF GALVESTON.
By Mrs. L. E. Caplex, Galveston.
Air—" The Harp that once thro' Tara's Halls.'
'Twas on that dark and fearful morn, That anxious hearts beat high !
And many from their friends were torn Beneath the wintry sky. |
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But hark! what cannon roar is that ?
Terrific—but sublime— Wafting some mortals to their graves,
Far from their Northern clime. |
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As the battle rag'd, voices high Echoed along the shore,
For death or victory was nigh Amid the battle's roar. |
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