The Anderson intelligencer. [volume] (Anderson Court House, S.C.) 1860-1914, 1902-08-27

l
what he might say.
The dying soldier fsltered as he took tha,
comrades hand,
And he said: never more shell view nv
OVID, my native land,
Take message and token 70 some dis
tant friends Of mine,
For was born at B!ngen, fair Bingen, on
the Rhine.
Tel! my brothers and com mpanions, when
they meet and crowd around
To hear my mournful story in the pleas
ant vineyard ground.
Tha: we fought the battle bravely and
when the day was DONE
Full many corpse lay ghostly pale be-
meath the setting sun,
And mid the dead and dying were some
grown old in wars,
The death wounds on their gallant
breasts, the last OF many scars;
And some were young and suddenly be-
hold life's morn decline.
And one had come from B;ngen, fair
Bingen, on the Rhine.
Tell my mother that her other sons shall
comfort her old age,
For 1 was still truant bird. that thought
his home cage,
For my father was soldier and even as
child,
My heart leapt forth to Lear him tell of
struggles fierce and wild,
And when he died and left us to divide
his scanty hoard,
let them to take what e'er they would,
but kept my fathers sword;
And with boyish love hung it, where
the bright light used to shine
On the cottage wall Of Bingen. fair Bin
gen, on the Rhine.
Telt my sister not to weep for me, and
sob with dropping bead,
When the troops come marching home
again, with glad and gallant tread,
But to look upon them proudly, with a
calm and steadfast eye.
For her brother was a soldier, too, and
not afraid to die;
And II a comrade seek her love, Iask her
in my name,
To listen to him kindly, without regret or
shame;
And to hang the old sword In its place
(my fathers sword and mine),
For the honor of old Binaen, dear Bin
gen. on the Rhine.
There is another, not sister, In the hap.
py days gone by,
You'd have known her by the merriment
that sparkled In her eye
Too innocent for coquetir; too fond for
idle scorning,
o. friend, fear the liRhtest heart makes
sometimes heaviest mourning;
Tell her the last night Of my life (for e'er
the moon be risen.
My body will be out OF pain, my soul, be
out Of prison).
dreamed stood with her and saw the
yellow sunlight shine
On the vineolad hills OF Bingin, fair Bin.
gen, on the Rhine.
cav the blue Rhine sweep along, I
heard, or seemed to hear,
The German songs we used to sing In
chorus sweet and clear,
And down the pleasant river, and up the
slanting hill.
The echoin9 chorus sounded through the
evening calm and still,
And her glad blue eyes were on me, as we
passed with friendly talk
Down many path beloved O! vo.e. SIT;
well remembered walk,
And her little hand lay lightly, confiding-
ly in mine,
But we'll meet no more at Blngen, fair
Bingen, on the Rhine.
His trembling voice grew faint and
hoarse. his grasp was childish weak,
His ayea mt on dying look, he eighed
and ceased to speak.
His comraie bent to lift him, bat the
spark of life had fed,
The soldier or the Legion, in q foreign
land Is dead,
And the so't oou rose up slowly, and
calmly che looked down
On the red sands Of the battle field, .sh
bloody corses strewn.
Yet calmly on the dreadful scene her pale
light seemed to shine.
Az 1t shone on distant Blngin, fair Bin.
gen, on the Rhine.
Another scene connected with that
little room not quite so sad comes to
memory. 4 member of my company
whose frame had been reduced to g
skeleton by the burning waste Of
typhoid fever lay on a cot looking
more dead than alive. One day in
feeble, plying and pleading tones he
begged for bath. I rather feared to
tackle the job, for it seemed this
almost lifeless, timber body would 60
to pieces when I began to handle him.
After lifting him into large tub of
warm water I started to rub his parch-
cd and fever crusted skin when it be-
gan to slip, and can assure you no
black snake ever more completely cast
his shed. than did this wasted and
fever stricken piece Of mortality slip
out of his skin from head to foot.