Bradford reporter. [volume] (Towanda, Pa.) 1844-1884, 1866-03-15
Criminal gottrg.
For the Bradford Reporter
THE FALLEN,
BY GEoFFREY G. Butte.

THE FALLEN.
BY GEoFFREY G. Butte.
How sleep the brave who sink to rest,
Bv All their country's wishes blest!
When Spring, with dewy fingers cold,
Pe+urns 10 deck their hallow'd mould,
She there shall dress a sweeter sod
Than Fancy's feet have ever trod.
Rr Fairy hands their knell is rung,
Ry form unseen their dirge is sung!
There Honor comes pilgrim gray,
To bless the turf that wraps their clay,
And Freedom shall awhile repair,
To dwell a weeping hermit there"
I, uas a splendid morning, clear and deliciousl,
,,oI. The breeze that came stealing up through
m. pines seemed treighted with the fragrance Of
st battlefield of the rebellion and all were exul
npt. But how the spirits fell as We approach tn
,rpty camps and dismantled works around tn
..,e great stronghold of treason. An air of utte
.aleliness pervaded everything The camps, late
" so full Of soldier-lfe were empty. The great
frown earthwo1ks were deserted. The sentinel
had kept his last watch, the picket fired his las
hot and alone, under the pines and IN the trench
r, were sleeping the fallen. The fresh grass wa
the spring flowers blossoming, and tn,
Wild vines twining "a tangled network of brown anC
,reeu, as if to hide them from the sight of Omni
.otence. Shoulder to shoulder, as they had fought
hev lay, in twos and threes, and scores, needless
o, drum or bugle note, awaiting the final sum
mons that should awaken them o the roll-call O
Eternity
Under the sobbing willow
Out on the bloody plain,
With the cold earth for pillow,
Needless of sun or rain
In the empty trenches,
Along the guarded line,
Beneath the swaying branches,
Under the moaning pine.
Scattered hither and thither,
Further than eye could see,
Buried within the thicket,
Under hedge or tree;
Sleeping upon the hillside,
III by-path, meadow, and lane,
Lying along the wayside.
Scattered over the plain.
Some were carefully guarded
Fenced with brothers care,
Many one discarded,
Trampled, barren, and bare;
Some ". re but freshly sodded,
Many one between,
Ger which coiled vines were twining,
Tangled network of green,
Where in the warm bright sunlight,
Wild-fowers tiny and frail,
Scattered their snowy blossoms,
Bent to the passing gale
blue-bird sang in the thicket,
A dirge mournfully shrill
Twas echoed in the forest,
Answered along the hill
Hpringtlme, summer, and Autumn,
In turn have run their race,
And Natures icy fetters,
Binds earth in chill embrace
Calmly through storm and starlight
On the hillside and plain
Calmly through long night-watches.
Sleep the host of the slain.
lem pest, and dew and sunlight
And the warm trickling rain,
have worn away the hillocks,
Washed out the crimson stain
Lev ing the massive earthworks
Nmoothed the trampled sod,
Wore out the trace of battle,
Where angry foemen trod.
oh, GoD. that storm and sunlight,
Or the swift passing years,
Could wash away the sorrow,
Dry up the flowing tears;
Restore the fallen brothers
That sleep SO far apart,
Repair the broken household.
Bind up the bieeding heart
VIII
Under the cold damp gTecpsward
The boys are sleeping STILL
lhe empty chair liz waiting
lu the homestead on the hill.
Sleep on. the prayers of millions
VIII hallow the trampled sod,
Koll on through the coming ages,
Up the throne of Cop.
"AAlos SANTIAGO, Dec 1865.