The Richmond palladium. [volume] (Richmond, Ind.) 1855-1875, 1867-07-04

THE EMPTY SLEEVE,

lwAST pity, ask no ans;
Give me some work forthis one hand,
The other, meath the Southern palms,
Is rottipg in the shifting sand.
1 left home, a child, wife,
As dear to me as yours to you,
And freely offered up my life
To aid q cause knew was true
And so, my friend, with your good leave,
No pity for this empty slevee.
could not rest in idle ease,
And read Of fiery deeds each day;
Although she, weeping, clasped my knees,
And earnest plead that might stay.
Dear heart" said, with steel and ball,
oeneath the banner of the free,
-. my chance, for should Il r.a,
"ha' N,uld be home tn-S,
without the aao whose sacred eyes
Are pictured in COTS lovely skies 20
Begrimed win smoke and torn by shell,
But each star standing in its place,
More holy for tie hearts that fell.
To shield it from disgrace;
1t waves in gior once again.
As in fhc bright old days before
Its hosored folds received the stain
o. kindred blood at Baltimore
\ IRE that old emblem sunk, believe,
I'd wish q shroud to wrap this sleeve.
When the keen saw rasped through the bone,
From my pale lips their burst a cry;
Twas not the stinging pain alone
That caused that moan of agony;
But thoughts Of home smote on my brain
Good reasons had to deplore--
For ,gainst two ha nis the wolf will gain
Oft times a seat at Labor's door,
How sheuld l then their wants relieve
A soldier with empty sleeve?
"Nay, don't despair; take courage, lad"
The busy surgeon kindly said
Be sure, to loose arm is bad,
But better 'tis than lose your head;
Why, all our lounges love well to wag
OF Color seargent Richard Todd,
Whose arm was first to plant our flag
Above grim wagners smoking sod;
Think of the glory, man, don't grieve;
You are doubly paid for the empty sleeve"
But glory ill not fill The hands
OF those who wait at home for bread;
Upon our hearth spectre stands,
That fills our hearts with dread,
Seeking for work day after day,
And gaining naugtt but cold replies;
At night see her turn away
To hide the tears shat fill her eyes,
And almost wish death might relieve
Ny pain, ~ toy with the empty sleeve.
Daily are places filed by those
Who cursed the cause for which bled,
Two years ago our dsadliest foes,
Now on the public bounty fed.
Must we who breasted rebel steel,
And bore "Old Glory" through the land,
Now ask of passers-by meal,
Abject and humble, hat in hand7
The hearts that held you in your placsf
Does il not tell Of hardships passed
This useless swinging sleeve Of minsf
Dread marches in December's blast,
In pelting rain and shine;
OF CORY fields and CHASTITY slain,
Whose faces make the senses reel,
And MANNED men shrieking in their pain,
Where laundering squadrons charge and wheel |;
Whose fierce hoofed steeds, in the wild strife,
Crushed out the little left of life.
OF midright vigs it doth tell,
In bearded forests meath the stars,
Where through the bougbs the moonlight fell
Upon the earth in silver bars;
Of hospitals where groaning rows
OF stricken men drew painful breath,
And prison doors that darkly close
On horrors tenfold verse than death;
Think, then. will beggars' aims relieve
The bearing Of this empty sleeve?
For what is past yet can say,
cherish not one vain regret;
Do not. then, make me curse the day
My old blue ccat with blood was wet;
Spare me your pity, if you please,
And give me work for this one hand;
The other meath the green palm trees,
Is rotting in the shifting sand;
o, grand Republic, give me leave
To proudly daunt this empty sleeve.
From the Citizen.