The daily phoenix. [volume] (Columbia, S.C.) 1865-1878, 1869-09-26
feel the flame in them yet. Am I to lay
here forever and no one come near me?

feel the flame in them yet. Am I to lay
here forever and no one come near me?
I must get up. Oh; lam powerless; my
attempts to rise are but contortions. I
nefer knew the agony OF thirst before,
and now all the cool springs ever saw
aoat tauntingly by. I can see the spriug
at my boyhood home; how tempting les
crystal stream appears. There is the one
we camped at after the battle OF Auster-
litz, and there the one at which I
qucnohed my thirst during the battle
before Moscow; would give the world
for ono draught of water from between
the floating ice in the Dneiper, as 1 drank
it while my companions were firing their
last ronnd. There they are now, their
faces still black with powder. Oh! if
would give me relief When I get we'll
again, will go back to that appealing
face and tell her how my heart was al-
ways her own, and beg her to love me
still. Them will I prove, by lifelong
devotion, the sincerity of my repentance,
and spend the remainder of my days in
doing good. I wish I had not fought
with :Capt. LaRue. The cries of his
wifi are ringing in my ears now. wish
[ hhd paid that poor seamstress' bill; her
appealing face is before me yet. should
have had that stone placed over mothers
grave, and paid that small annuity to her
servant. must attend to all these things
SO soon as I am well, and then Marie will
be 30 happy. My God, I fear am dying!
No man ever endured such agony and
lived. What cursed mockery my life
has been. have never lightened the
load of O single heavy heart or dried a
tear of sorrow. None have been hap
pier in knowing me. I have been q
curse to all who loved me, and, in death,
mono will miss me. Oh, if I could be-
gin life again, would try to be happy
and mako others happy too. I would
give thousand lives such rs mine for
one moments ease, and one kiss from
Marie's pure lips. can still feel that
red fame in my eyes, but am wounded
internally. I feel my heart is bursting
and am dying without the power
to clasp or kiss mothers or Marie's pic
ture.
There, can see now. My orderly is
running toward me, and my horse is not
hurt. Truly, my thoughts have passed
swifter than lightning, for I can see that
it has been but moment or two since I
was struck. What an awful sound my
voice makes when I attempt to speak. 1
hear the orderly exclaim:
"The poor Colonel is deadr'
Is it so? Is this the end? An awak-
ened consciousness that I am thought
dead, proclaims that am lost, lost! Ma
RE. pray for me. God have mer-
In village church-yard of Southern
France stands plain marble monument,
the first lines of which express the Opt
nion of the world-the homage the sol
dier wins. The last two are upon the
base, almost hid by the growing vegeta-
ton, though indelibly but delicately
traced, as if by an amateur hand. They
comprise but the motto upon the title
page of al unwritten history of one
wronged, bruised, but unwavering, loT-
ing heart:
Sacred to the Memory
COLONEL LOUIS LEvAssEUR,
Killed by solid shot while leading on
his Regiment at the Battle Of Waterloo,
June, 1916.
His unseltish heart, true nobility of
nature and heroic devotion to his coun-
try, proved linn to be one of the noblest
sons OF France.
Heavenly Father, for Thy Sons sake,
grant he may rest in peace.-MAR1E.
| GEO. HUGGINS'
F a.. n