The Opelousas courier., 1865-02-11

Oh. He's nothing but soldier,
But his trust is in his sword
To carve his way to glory
Through the servile Yankee horde;
No pompous pageants herald him,
No sycophants attend.
In his belt You see bis body guard
His tried and trusty friend.
Oh! He's nothing but soldier
And stranger in our land.
His home is in the Sunny Sonth.
By the blue Cuffs golden strand;
But l wish l knew his people,
Some little of bis past.
For Fathers always telling me
About our social caste.
OH He's nothing but soldier
But his eyes are very fue,
And sometimes thinking in passing
They are piercing into mine;
Pshaw!! He's nothing but soldier.
Come! let me be discreet,
But really! for a soldier
His toilets very neat.
Oh! He's nothing but soldier.
But last night he came to tea,
What an interesting soldier,
Bnt then he's "rather free:''
Twas two o'clock this morning
Before he took his leave,
He has my ring-The fellow.
But what's the use to grieve.
He has been again to see us,
The gentleman in grey,
He calls to see rs often,
Our home is on his way
At times he sadly seeks the shade
Cf yonder groves of trees.
watched him once-this soldier.
] saw him on his knees.
One day last week l asked him
To tell me Of his home,
He answered, pointing to his camp,
"Hhere'ere those 6rare men roam"
asked him once to tell me
Of his mother-sisters dear,
A funeral cortege passed along
Said he. "Tou have them here"
Oh! He's nothing but soldier,
But this know right well,
He has heart of softness
Where tefdcr virtues dwell;
For once when we were talking
And no one else was near,
saw him very plainly
Try to hide a starting tear.
We were talking Of Manassas,
Of that first great bloody day
When a handful of our bravess
Held the Yankee hosts at bay.
Twas there he lost his aged SIRE,
While fighting by his side,
He sleeps beneath the crimson turf.
Where rolled the bloody tide.
Oh! He's nothing but soldier,
But within that eye 40 clear
There turks no timid spirit,
No coward glance Of fear;
For though at PHYS pleading
1t can melt in tender light,
I've seen it fash like lightning
Across the brow Of night
Oh. He's nothing but soldier,
Such as pass us every day.
He calls them ragged deriis,"
But You know that's just his way.
There is one thing very funny,
One thing can't explain,
That when this soldier goes away
| wish him back again.
OH Hes nothing but soldier
And a stranger yet to Fame,
But they tell me in the army
The boys" all know his name.
The Yankees too, have heard it,
They dread his battle shout,
They have no wish to meet him.
This dreaded Southern Scout.
Oh! He's nothing but soldier.
Yet you'd call his features good,
That cat he got at West Point
While fighting under Hood.
He has halting in his gait,
A tremble in his knee,
He brought that back from Sharpsbnrg.
Where he went with General Lee,
Oh! He's nothing but soldier.
But his triurnphs are not few,
He has seen our glorious .battle-Aar
In all its trials through;
At Seven Pines be followed IL
On the heights at Gaines, Mil.
Al Williamsburg, at West Point,
n the smoke on Malvern Hill.
lh! He's nothing but a soldier,
Iet still its very queer.
feel somehow when absent
u rather have him near.
de has gone to meet the foeman,
20 stay his bloody track,
lh! Heaven shield the soldier.
y fNsSf L 4