The Arizona sentinel., 1885-05-23
In Memoriam.

BY oMBRA. Look backward with me OCT the hurried
 years;
 Whispers breathe in the balmy air Of bright spring morn, till gatherin! Fall at last on the startled ear: Another battle" Be pitiful, God! Over the heart creeps deathly chill; While the very air seems filled with [
 moan,
 As its pulses quiver and thrill <~ A hush, like the ominous, breathless calm Ere thunder breaks with crashing peal Hurling it's bolts and the proud forest
 king
 Feels in it's heart the lightning's steel. Through the glad spring day and star.
 light night sit with fearless eyes and wait Upon whom it will fall, the cruel bolt, Thrown by the merciless Hand oi
 Fate I can hear the robin call to It's mate In his love notes gIadsono and free; The robin, with breast the color of blood, As he swings on the apple tree. And a nameless terror, with ice-cold
 touch,
 Creeps up from m heart to my head, Till its pulse is smote by an unseen hand, For the robins breast is dyed RED. And looking above at the quiet stars, see them looking down again Upon gold-brown locks splashed over
 with blood,
 And riderless steed on the plain. can see that sulphurous three days hell The "Wilderness battle." An! my God: l can see it cen now, the coats of Blue, The trampled earth and blood
 drenched sod; And can hear the shouts from the serried
 hosts,
 The cannon's roar and the bugle's call, While bursting shell and the dying moans, Mingled with screams from hissing
 ball, Ring loud in my ears, as the scorching Sinks in the strong and quiv'ring limb, With burning pain as of molten fire, While the brain reels and eye grows
 dim. Forms made in the likeness of Christ
 Divine,
 Bearded manhood and cheek of youth; A holocaust laid on Liberty's shrine, By the hand of Justice and Truth. Locks, that mothers fond lips have
 caressed, Mingled together, gold and brow-, And soaked witL & pitiless rain of blood, In the crimson mire trodden down. Then I think of one who marched with
 the Blue,
 To stirring peal of life and drum, The weary months became wearier years, Waiting to greet my hero home; And crowned with the laurel, he came at
 last,
 The stars and stripes above his breast; But be came in his narrow home alone, From tented field of the "Wilder-
 ness." They brought him to his ohIldkood's home, The gen'rous young and brave, And laid the war-worn body down, Where his own native wave Could chant low, sad requiem, And winds his cheek had pressed, Would whisper softly to the rose, Above his quiet breast. They draped around his faded form, The Starry Flag so loved. If aught could call the life tide back, His pulses then had moved. But death had laid his marble hand Upon the cheek of snow, And s:illed the golden locks that lay Above the broad, white brow. With chilling touch had closed the lid Over the proud, blue eye, And breathed upon the perfect lip The blasting of his sigh. On many southern battle fields, Mid storm of shot and shell, He dauntless stood, the last to yield, And like hero fell. Sleep my beloved, full well I know The offering of thy blood. For others sins and others woes, Acceptance finds with God. Sleep soldier, hero; none can win A nObl0r name than thina