Daily globe. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1878-1884, 1882-10-14
ALL QUIET ON THE POTOMAC.


''An Quiet Along the Potomac To- Night"
is Is follows:
"Au quiet along the Potomac tonight
Except here and there stray picket
Is shot, as he walks on his beat, to and fro
BY rifeman hid III the thicket.
VIII not count in the news of the battle;
Not an officer lost, only one of the men,
Moaning out all alone the death rattle.
San quiet along the Potomac tonight
Where the soldiers lie peacefully dreaming,
And their tents in the rays OF the clear autumn
And the light of the camp fires are gleam-
ing.
A tremulous sigh as the gentle night wind
Through the forest leaves slowly is creep
ing.
While the stars up above, with their differing
eyes,
Keep guard DER the army while sleeping.
There's only the sound of the lone sentry's
tread
As he tramps from the rock to the fountain;
And thinks of the two on the low trundle-bed
Far away III the cot on the mountain.
HIS musket falls slack; his face dark and
grim,
Grows gentle with memories tender,
AS he mutters prayer for the children asleep,
And their mother, May heaven defend her,
The moon seems to shine as brightly as when
That night when the love yet unspoken
Leaped up to his lips, and when low murmured
VOWS
Were pledged to be ever unbroken.
Then drawing his sleeve roughly over his eyes.
He dashes off the tears that are yelling,
And gathers his gun close up to his breast
AS If to keep down the hearts swelling.
He passes the fountain, the blasted pine tree,
And his footstep is tagging and weary,
Yet onward he goes through the broad belt OF
light,
| Toward the shades of the forest SO dreary.
Hark! Was it the night wind that rustles the
leaves?
| Was 1t the moonlight SO wondrously flashing
1t looked like rifle, ''Ha, Mary, good.
And his ifeblood is ebbing and FLASHING.
"Al1 quiet along the Potomac tonight
No sound save the rush of the river,
| While soft falls the dew on the face of the
dead,
| The pitcke's off duty forever.
SOMEBODY'S DARLING.
The war songs naturally suggest other
| war poems. Of these we had an album.
dance, some fine, others mediocre. To.the
former class belonged those of. Mrs Mar
garet j. Preston, Hayne, Simms and Timrod
| Mrs. Preston's best known war poem is
"Buchenbrook," long, connected tale, but
she also wrote shorter ones, such as ''Dirge
for Ashby," Hymn to the National Flag
Virginia CAPITA" Timrod's ''Ethnogene
| SIS" Cry to Arms" and lode to the I'm.
known Dead" and Haynes 'Stonewal
Jackson were amongst our better wal
poems" John Esten Cooke wrote beauti
full war poem called Band in the Pine
Wood" One of the sweetest poems that
appeared during the war was Somebody
Darling" I do not know who was the
author, but he (or she) was surely per
son of great depth and delicacy of feel
ing. The poem runs thus:
Into ward of the whitewashed halls,
Where the dead and dying lay,
wounded by bayonets, shells and balls,
Somebody's darling was borne one day.
somebody's DARING, SO young and brave,
Wearing yet on his sweet, pale face.
The lingering light of his boyhood's grace.
Matted and damp are the curls of gold,
KISSING the snow of that fair young brow
Pale are the lips Of delicate mould,
Somebody's darling is dying now
Back from his beautiful blue veined brow
Brush his wandering waves of gold.
Cross his hands on his bosom now,
Somebody's darling is still and cold.
Kiss him once for somebody's sake,
Murmur prayer soft and low;
One bright curl from its fair mates take,
They were somebody's pride, you know;
Somebody's hand hath rested there,
Was 1t a mothers, soft and white?
Or have the lips OF sister fair
Been baptized in their waves of light?
God knows best He was somebody's love-
Somebody's heart enshrined him there,
Somebody waited his name above,
Night and morn on the wings of prayer.
Somebody wept when no marched away,
Cooking so handsome, brave and grand;
Somebody's kiss on his forehead Law,
Somebody chung to his parting hand.
Somebody's watching and waiting for him,
Yearning to hold him again to her heart;
And there he lies with his blue eyes dim,
And the smiling, child-like lips apart,
Tenderly bury the fair young head,
Pausing to drop on his grave tear:
Carve on the wooden slab DER his head,
Somebody's darling slumbers here"
}, ENLIvENINa STRAINS IN RICHMOND.
Not only did song flourish greatly durin
t the war, but we also enjoyed an abundans