The true northerner. [volume] (Paw Paw, Mich.) 1855-1920, 1873-07-11
THE MorHER,s STORY.

Here, at the gate, let ms stand and walt
Till the grand procession pass;
The marshal first, in marvellous state,
With the drums and the sounding brass;
Then the veterans brave in blue draw near,
With sober, soldierly air
And the halt aud the MANNED are riding here,
And the priest and poet there.
And now the troop of children comes,
In wavy, hesitant files,
All bright with the blush Of the early blooms,
All wreathed in roses and smiles.
They are hating now at the graves Of the boys,
Ard dirge will be softly sung;
And the parson will give TO faith voice,
And the poet 10 love tongue.
But You and l. my Harry and Ress,
WIN turn from these well-meant words
Apart through the Woodland silences-
Alone with the breezes and birds.
Here, at this grave, where the pine boughs griev
Where the solemn south winds moan,
Our rosemary and our rue Wen leave,
And carry our heart's-ease home.
Did promise? Well, there's nothing new.
But the Joy and the pain are one.
SIT down on the bank, here, Bessy, and you
Lie down in the grass, my son.
Fourteen next month! You were only four
When your father went away;
And you, little queen, were scarcely more
Than babe that desolate day.
A sudden and terrible call had come
For an army of volunteers;
And the tidings brought to our happy home
Hard struggles and boding fears.
That night he sat in solemn mood,
and held you both 10 his heart;
i saw on his brow the shadow brood
And darken- knew the rest
He carried you up to your crib that night,
And watched with you till you slept;
Then praying that God would guide him Alright
The strong man wrestled and wept.
l found him praying, and left him there
Alone with his Father and You;
Till the Helper lifted his load of care,
And lightened his sorrow too.
And then he came forth and told me all;
l could neither strive nor cry;
He would follow his suffering countrys call.
Who would dare To forbid, Not l.
You know the story-the parting word,
The year that drearily passed,
The drowning pain of hope deferred
The binding blow at the last.
But here is picture you never saw
On this side mother and Bess,
Hal on the other ; the little flaw
IL the dent of a ball guess.
He carried it always here, by his heart;
And when they led him away
From the field, where he bore his part
So CALAMITY on that day
When they laid him down in a sheltered nook,
(rhe chaplain told me this,)
He drew il forth, and with many look
And many passionate kiss,
He gazed till he heard the order, A" Rest!"
And then wheh his spirit passed,
II dropped from his hands upon his breast,
And they found ii there at the last.
That is ali; my darlings have TO tell.
Like another diviner Friend,
Having loved his own in the wo Id so well,
He loved them unto the end.
The love that he left to you and me
IL our fortune and our pride;
The truest manifest man was he
And he loved us ali till he died.
Come hither, Harry! III lean on you.
His brow and his mouth are there;
And yours, little Bess are his eyes OF blue
And his wealth of golden hair.
SO here, at his grave, where the pine bcugl
grieVe,
Where the solemn south winds moan,
Our rosemary and our rue We'll leave,
And carry our heart's-ease home.