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But not of ships nor battle-fields, with clash of arms and roll
of drums— To softer scenes my spirit yields—to-night a sweeter vision
comes.
It is thine own beloved one ! whose kiss I feel, whose smile I see;
•0 God ! protect that wife at home, begirt with growing infancy :
To-night, to-night I'm with you there, around my knees fond children gather !
And climb, the envied kiss to share, amidst the sounds of " Husband ! Father !" |
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'Such thoughts my eyes with moisture fill, my bosom heaves,
my pulses start; Close down I'll press my gun to still the wild emotions of
my heart: Hush ! pleading one—I cannot stay ! the spoiler comes with
fiendish wrath— Black ruin marks his bloody way, and blazing homes have lit
his path. |
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*' Go, husband, go ! God nerve thy blows—their footsteps foul
blot from our shore— Strike! 'till our land is free from foes whose hands are
stained with Southern gore ; Strike! husband, strike—I'd rather weep, the widow of a
patriot brave, Than lay my heart (I'd scorn to sleep) beside a subjugated
slave." |
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