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Watch for the coining1 of my eager feet, My warm embraces and tender, loving- kisses— They will not come! dear mother, you will miss Your boy's lov'd presence, and in vain will seek, The well known form that you were wont to greet With tender kisses upon brow and cheek.
The tall, green trees will cast their lengthen'd shade Across the prairie, and the shadows pale Will fill your home, and the wild winds will wail With frantic madness, as they swiftly sweep Thro' the dark forests where your children play'd— Where all save one in death's embraces sleep.
And he will fill an unhonor'd far-off grave,
Unmark'd and lone ! The hated foeman's scorn, Will soon be o'er. This glorious, golden morn I leave my life, my honor and my fame, To nobly die as fits a soldier brave—
Who asks of Southrons but an honor'd name ?
The hour is gone ! and I must meet my doom, And die, as should a soldier always die, With unblanch'd cheek, and proudly scornful eye; While stern defiance doth my bosom swell— Farewell to earth and all its beauteous bloom— My countrj7! mother ! one long, last farewell!