The National tribune., 1882-09-16
Relighted Camp-flres.
[By WilLiGgn II. Bushnell.


"Years ago? Yes nearly twenty years now
Since we lay on our weapons that long, dreary
night,
Tending the wounded and watching the dead
By the Pickering flame of the carnp-fre's light.
Where was it? Seven Days but all were tho
Which side you fight on there's scarcely a toss
Save for honor and rght-each is sorrow and pain,
And the greater the victory the greater the loss
Think of? Far swifter than mimic the mind
Acts when the senses all on u strain,
When the dew that is filling is crimson with blood
And leaden the drops of the pitiless rain;
| When the music that swells on the shuddering
| breeze,
| And thrills on the ear as a low, gasping breath
Comes from organ whose keys are the depths OF the
heart,
When touched by the skeleton fingers of Death.
"Thinz of? A cottage emboweFed in trees
Clouds OF pink-white in their wonderouS bloom
The willows that kissed as they bent oer the brook,
The clover-decked meadow with honeyed per-
fume
The vine whose green tendrils half covered the
porch,
The rose that mosaiced the roof as a floor,
The robins that sang in the orchard around,
And the loved ones whose faces were framed in
the door.
"Thinlz of? The wife and the little ones dear
The wife who was ever all goodness and truth
The boy who played soldier through the bright,
sun-lit hours,
And the girl in the first bloom of sweetness and
youth.
A tear? 'Tis the first for this many long years,
But War wieIds swerd that cuts deep either
way,
And the mother and babe sleep in little church.
yard,
Earth-furloughed, to wake in an eternal day.
All! while soldier g in battle, and giving his blood
To stain the old flag to a far deeper red,
Women sit weeping by fear-shadowed hearths,
With hearts going out to the wounded and dead
And they suffer far more than the one that's cut
down
Mid the roaring of musket and clashing of steel,
For every shot reaches them, each blow leaves a
wound
To the plying, tender the loving and leal.
"Thinls of? Our flag? It was ne 'er out of mind,
Was our first thought in battle and last in the
fight,
Was the crimson-stripcd cloud that led forward by
day,
And the star-famng one leading onward by
night.
I.was given to us to be kept free from stain,
Was our medal of honor, of courage and fame
We walled II round WIN our heartS, we upEelu
with arms
In our lives it was honor, in death was a name.
"Thinlz death? tits only the brlggar. who sneers
And makes light of the danger that almost is
DOOM
When cannon are belching forth flames as of hell,
And black clouds are rolling as out from tomb;
When as storm-drven hail the mimic balls hiss
And the shell sweeps away all before it that
stand,
Then the man truly brave marches on, facing DEATH
With his eyes on his flag and his heart il his
hand.
"Think of those that we fought? Aye, truly and
we'll
They were brothers TO us in life's peaceful day
The tie cannot be broken while the heaven above
Keeps clouds interviewer of blue and OF gray.
There were brave men and true in their ranks as
in ours
They fought for their homes cen as we fought
for ours,
And believed they right. We question not
now,
But have hands for their grasping, for their
graves we have flowers.
think of should we die? That our country would
To our widows and orphans most faithful friend.
That out of her plenty each one would be fed
That her strong arm would succor, would shield
and defend;
That as husband and father the place she would
take
OF the brave ones who fell when Wars toesn
rang loud,
And proudly enwrap all her children beloved,
With the flag that had been for the soldier
shroud'
Passed the war, and its autograph faded away
Though written with steel, with shot and with
shell,
And the rivers, unstained by blood, roll to the
sea,
And to silence is hushed every fierce battle yell;
But Veterans, relighting their eamp-fires again.
With torches of memory still flaming bright
Talk as him who at "Seven Days" breasted the
shock,
And how their country would bless them when
ended the fight.
d. c., September 5, 1882.