Spirit of Jefferson. [volume] (Charles Town, Va. [W. Va.]) 1844-1948, 1894-09-25

Ano4 near the wor-drums beat ana uumph's g
blare,
While list the bugles play in their brave
and stirring WY,
The Dixie Land" that proudly flied the
air.
oh! my mountaineer SO true, how my MEM
ory clings to You,
AS my heart goes dreaming, drifting down
the past;
And again see your face with It's smile and
manly grace,
As think of hopes that were too bright to
last
Twas little you could read and twas less that
you could write,
And you couldn't lead the ''german" worth
stavc;
But when cannon crowned the height in the
din and glory light,
Yon led the van to glory and the grave.
The pine stands on the hill, and ferns around
it still
Wave their plumes above the sand-rocks
cold and gray
And the cabins walls are low, while the sun
sets golden glow
Makes the spot look sweet and holy all the
day.
The mountain bends to meet the Valley fair
and sweet,
And the spring~branch still goes singing
down the glen.
shll the hawthorn blooms in May, and the
SHOWS in winter lay
On the hillside and the moorland just as
then.
On the outskirts of the field where the earth
its harvests yield,
Sleeps the mother heart that bled for you
the day
When the news came thick and fast like cold
and bitter blast,
That You were killed in Chickamauga's fray.
"But the will of God be done, shall walk the
path alone
That leads me to the bright, eternal day!r
And she tried to walk erect to the lot to feed
old Spec,
But she always sortcr tottered on her way.
And now and then she said, as she leaned her
aged head
'Gainst the facing of the doorway to the
west,
She had prayed to see you when, to her hum
r. DAS
You'd come and fold her warmly to your
breast.
We were glad to see her go, for she loved you
and you know t
There was only want for her this side the
grave
And the light that filed her eyes was the
CLEAN of Paradise,
When the hour had come to pass DER Jor-
dan's wave. t C -
Betsey cried for. you the day when you gay1y
marched away, sge.
And Grandpap seemed SC. restless and for
2orn;
TIN the child grew pale and thin, and they
all said ''what sin
To see her hoe thetaters and the cornl"
But from out the chilly mist came an angel
sweet and kis't
The kiss of life eternal on her brow;
And the poor child tolls no moro by the hum
ble cabin door,
For she sings the loud hosannS: up there
now
Little Joe's railroad boy, with an engine
for toy,
And you bet he's just the right sort of a
man
And hope he'n make run, when the routes
forever done,
That will take him safe across the bridges
span.
To Texas sara's gone with true man oil her
own;
And Bob's and upstart sort of fellow and a
SWELL
He's no more like you were, John, than fod-
der's like to corn.
Bet he manages to dress amazing well.
Like lily on the hill, when the lonely whip
poorwill
Sings in springtime like lover fond and
true,
The rose gone from her cheek and her voice
SO low and meek,
fingers Emnlie on her lonesome road to
you.
She had faint the day and her breath al
fed away
When they told her you were dead beside
your gun;
And she kinder droops and signs like flower
meath autumn skies,
When the frost lies bleachin' white beneath
the sun.
Many lad has woocd and tried to win the
valleys pride,
But they're a wastin' all their smiles on her
in vain,
For she bids them go their way. and tells then
to the day
OF her death, she can love no more again
For her heart lies in YOUR grave where the
summer grasses wave.
And she counts in tears the days that ART
no more.
And think it wont be lepg 'tilr with arms Sc
true and strong,
shore.
Even Sam Stokes raced around like yearlin
IN new ground,
But ho couldn't win smile or word from
I....