Staunton spectator and vindicator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1896-1916, 1899-07-27
THE LETIERTHAT FOUND HIM BEAD.
An Incident of the Civil War Told in
Verse.

The following lines, with the accom-
fpanying Introduction, first appeared
during the late civil war:
& During the confinement as prisoner
of war at Camp Chase, Ohio. fellow
prisoner. who had been fatally wound
ed, was asked by Col. Hawkins why
he seemed down hearted. He replied
that he was grieved at not hearing
from his affianced bride. When he
saw he must die he requested Col.
Hawkins to open and answer any let
ter that might come for him. He also
requested that a lock of her hair, which
be had, be buried with him. Soon af
ter his death letter was received from
the young lady, which she curtly broke
eff the engagement. After reading
at. Colonel Hawkins replied in the
following beautiful lines:
Your letter came, but came too late,
For Heaven had claimed its own;
Ah! sudden change from prison BARS
Unto the Great White Throne;
And yet think he would have stayed
For one more day of pain,
Could he have read those tardy words,
Which you have sent in vain.
Why did you wait, fair lady,
Through so many weary hour!
Had you other lovers with you
In that silken, dainty bower?
Did others bow before your charms,
And twine bright garlands there ?
And vet I ween in all that throng
His spirit had no peer.
wish that you were with me now,
AS l draw the sheet aside,
To see how pure the look he Wore
A while before he died.
Yet the sorrow that you gave him
Still had left its weary trace,
And a meek and sanity sadness
Dwells upon his pallid face
"Her love, :" be said, "could change for
The winters cold to spring."
All trust to thoughtless maiden 8 love,
Thou art bitter thing!
For when these valleys fair, in May
Once more with bloom shall wave,
The northern violet shall blow
Above his humble grave.
Your dole of scanty words had been
But one more pang to bear;
Though to the last be kissed with love
This tress of your soft hair.
| did not put it where be said,
For when the angels come
l would not have them find the sign
Of falsehood in the tomb.
I've read the letter, and I know
The wiles that you have wrought,
To win that noble heart of h.s,
And gained it-fearful thought
What lavish wealth men sometimes
give,
For trifle light and small;
What manly forms are often held
In folly's f1imsy thrall.
You shall not pity him, for now
| He's past your hope and fear,
Although wish that you could stant
With me beside his bier
Still I forgive you; Heaven knows
! For mercy you II have need,
ISinse God his awful judgments send
On each unworthy deed.
i
To night 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 him now,
| Yet death gives always grace,
And would rather see him thus
Than clasped in your embrace.
Tonight your rooms are very gay
4 With wit, and wine. and song:
And you are smiling, just as it
You never did a wrong.
Your hand. so fair that none wou
think
y 1t penned these words OF pain;
, Your skin SO white-would God yo
, Were half so free of stain.
} I'd rather be this dear, dear friend,
Than you in all your glee,
For YOU are held in grievous bonds,
While he's forever free.
Whom we serve in this life, we serve
. In that which is to come.
: He chose his way: you yours Let Gt
Pronounce the fitting doom.