Marshall County Republican. (Plymouth, Ind.) 1856-1878, 1873-06-26
rroRE CRUEL THAN WAR.

IA oorrespon6en of the Kansas City Times REEVES
q striking poem, of which this is the history:
Southern prisoner of war at Camp Chase, in Ohio,
after pining of sickness in the hospital of that sta
ton for time, and conhding to his friend and
fellow-captive, Col. W. S. Hawkins, of Tennessee,
that he was heavy of heart because his afRanced
bride in Nashville did not write to him, died just
before the arrival of letter which the lady CURLY
broke the engagement. Col. Hawkins had been re-
quested to open any epistle which should come
for him thereafter and, upon reading the letter IN
question, penned the following versifed answer.
The lines were impe, fectly given by the Southern
press just after the war, and deserve revival only
tice to their sentiment and win for them wider
appreciation :-Netc York Rorld.]a
MY FRIEND.
Yoor letter, lady, came toolate, fN
For heaven has claimed its own 81
AL sudden change-from prison bars
Unto the great, white throne!
Aud yet think he would have stayed
To live for his disdain,
Could ne have read the careless words
Which you have sent in vain.
So full of patience did he wait,
Through many weary hour,
That DER his simple soldier-faith
Not even death had power
An dyou-did others whisper low
Their homage in your ear,
AS though amongst their shallow throng,
His spirit had peer?
would that you were by me now,
To draw the sheet aside,
And see how pure that look he wore
The moment when BIZ died.
The sorrow that you ga We to him
Had left its weary trace,
As 'twere the shadow of the cross
Upon his pallid face.
ssHer love - he said Z" could change for me
3 The winters cold TO spring."
All, trust of tickle malden's love,
Thou art bitter thing!
For when these valleys, bright in May,
Once more with blossoms wave,
The northern violets shall blow
Above his humble grave.
Your dole of scanty words had been
But one more pang to bear,
For him who kissed unto the last
Your tress of golden hair.
did not put it where he said,
For, when the angels come,
would not have them find the sign
Of falsehood in the tomb.
I've read your letter, and know
The wies that you had wrought
To win that noble heart of his,
And gained it-cruel thou. ut
What lavish wealth men Sometimes give
For what is worthless al
What manly bosoms beat for truth
In follys falsest thrall
You SHAH not pity him, for now
His sorrow has end;
Yet would that you could stand with me
Beside my fallen friend;
ANA forgive you LOT MS SAKE
AS he-if it be given
May cen be pleading grace for you
Before the court of heaven.
Tonight the cold winds whistle by,
AS my vigil keep
Within the prison dead-house, where
Few mourners come to weep.
A rude plank coffin holds his form
Yet death exalts his face,
And would rather see him thus
Than clasped in your embrace.
Tonight your home may shine with lights,
And ring with merry song,
And you yet smiling, as your soul
Had done deadly wrong
Your hand so far that none would think
1t penned those words of pain;
Your skin white-would to God your heart
Were half as free from stain.
I'd rather be my comrade dead
Than you in life supreme:
For your the sinners waking dread,
And his the martyrs dream.
Whom serve We in this life, we serve
In that which is to come
He chose his way; you yours let God -.1.
Pronounce the fitting doom.