Daily national Democrat., 1861-08-16
BINGEN UN THE RHINE.

a SOlQler OF |. = Legion
Lay dying at Algers;
There was u lack ui woman Is nursing.
There was dearth Of wuman's tears
But a comrade stood beside him.
W his hie-blood ebb.d away.
And hent with pitying glancus,
To hear what he might say;
The dying soldier fa.tcred,
As he tooh his comrades hand,
And he said, 81 never more shall see
My own, my native land;
Take message, and a token
To some distant friends of mine,
For was born at Bngeu,
AT Bingen on the Rhine.
Tell my brothers and companions,
When they meet and crowd around
10 hear my mournful story,
In the pleasant vineyard ground,
That we fought the battle bravely-
And when the day was gone,
Full many corpse lay ghastly pale
Beneath the setting sun;
And midst the dead and dying,
Were some grown old in wars
The death'wounds on their gallant breasts,
The last of many scars;
But some were young, and suddenly
Beheld LIES morn decline,
And one had come from Bingen-
From Bingen on the Rhine.
Tell my mother that her other sons
Shall comfort her old age,
For was like truant bird,
That thought his home a cage
For my father was soldier,
And even when a child,
My heart leaped to hear him tel,
Of struggles fierce and wild;
And when he died and left us
70 divide his scanty hoard,
l let them take whate'er they would
But kept my fathers sword;
And with boylsh love hung it
Where the bright light used to shine,
On the cottage wall at Bingen-
Calm Blngep on the Rhine.
Tell my sister ret to weep for n1e,
And sob with dropping head
When the troops are marching home again
With glad and gallant tread
But look upon thetn proudly,
With calm and steadfist eve,
For her brother was a soldier, too,
And not afraid to die
And if comrade seek her love,
| ask her in my name
To listen to him kindly,
Without regret or shame
And to hang the old sword in its place,
My fathers sword and mine,
For the honor OF old Bngen-
Dear Bingen on the Rhine.
There's another-not a sister
In the happy days gone by,
You'd have known her by the merriment
That sparkIcd in her eye
Too innocent for coquetry-
Too fond for idle scorninc-
l., Al, l. Al. L..
Makes, sometimes, heaviest mourning;
Tell her the last night Of my life
(For ere this moon be risen,
My body will be out of pain,
My soul be out of prison,)
| dreamed stood with her, and saw
The yellow sunlight shine
On the vine-clad hills OF Bingen-
Fair Bngen on the Rhine.
saw the blue Rhine sweep along
lheard, or seemed to hear,
The German songs we used to sing,
In the CHORUS sweet and clear
And down the pleasant river
AND up the slanting hill,
The eSh6ing horns sounded,
Through the evening calm ana still
Aud her blue eyes were on me,
AS we passed with friendly talk,
Down many path beloved Of yore,
And welremembered walk
And her little hand lay lightly,
Confidingly on nine,
But we'll meet no more in Bingen-
Loved Bingen. on the Rhine.
His voice grew faint and hoarse-
Ills grasp was childish weak
Ibis eyes put on dying look
He sighed and ceased to speak
His comrade bent to list to him,
But the spark oflife had fed;
The soldier Of the Legion
In ii foreign land was dead
And the soft moon rose up slowly,
And calmly she looked down
On the red sand of the battle field
With bloody corscs strewn--
Yes, calmly ON the dreadful scene,
Her pale light seemed to shine,
A. 1t shonc on distant Bngeu,
Fair Bingen on the Rhine.