Eagle River review. [volume] (Eagle River, Wis.) 1890-1927, 1909-07-16
.
When Your Father Went to War.


When Your Father Went to War.
1.
When your father went to war, Jennie,
you were but a child,
A romping little rowdy, running riotous
and wild
In the maple-shaded pasture, where our
cottage used to stand,
And We owned a timbered forty of the
richest river land
Yes. owned it-every inch of it--by la
boris hard decree,
And none, we thought, in all the world
were happier than we.
Our cattle browsed the summer hills,
amid the bluegrass deep,
And all the shady bottom-lands were
snowy with our sheep;
Twas like a tale of fairy lore the life
that we lived then,
When l was barely twenty-six and you
were only ten;
Love brought us peace and comfort, till
there rose an evil star,
In the summertime of plenty, when your
father went to war.
II.
All, Jennie, / remember we'll the day
twas late in June,
Your father he came riding home from
town one afternoon,
And his face was pale and haggard as he
reached the door and threw
One arm around me, daughter, while he
laid one hand on you;
AID e. Id
in his embrace,
l read the fearful meaning that was
written in his face
l felt it in the bounding blood that beat
against my breast,
/ needed not spoken word-too well l
knew the rest
And all that night in dreams I heard
the tramp of marching feet,
And far away l saw the flags grow dim
mer down the street
Twas long ago. but 0, my heart has not
outgrown the scar
Gods finger put upon it, when your faith
er went to war.
Then you and l were left alone. We
tried a year or so,
By hiring help, to scrimp along, but
couldn't make it go;
The spring-foods swept away the corn,
the drouth of summer dried
The grasses on the uplands and we had
no crops beside;
So we parted with the cattle that we
could no longer keep,
We sold the only team we had, and trad
ed off the sheep;
And when the winds of autumn shook
the pipes about the caves,
And in the woodland hollows piled the
brown October leaves,
When the hazel-nuts were ripening in
the old familiar copse,
And the wild geese wedging southwark,
far above the maple-tops,
We locked the dear old farmhouse up,
and closed the pasture-bar,
And moved into the village, when your
father went to war.
Then winter came-a dreary time-a
night of hopes and fears,
On every hand the widows wept, and fell
the mothers tears
A reign of blood and ruin! Every day
some passing train
Brought back a load of mangled men
brought back the cofined slain;
And Jennie, 0, my Jennie, ere the SHOWS
Of winter passed,
They bore your father back to us-they
brought him home at last;
They sent him from the frozen hills, be-
side the Tennessee,
Borne down amidst the battle, where the
bravest love to be;
They sent him back a ruined man for
life, alas, my child!
turned away in agony, l raved as one
grown wild.
But why recall the story now? The
years have drifted far,
And we've got used to trouble, since your
father went to war.
The times have changed. We, too, have
changed. Tonight the blue and
gray
Sit round their fires, with lighted pipes,
and puff their hates away
Sit spinning yarns about their camps,
until the drowsy stars
Put out their light and wage good
night" across the twilight's bars
Although my heart be broken, and al
though my hair be white,
And though the years have brought me
but disaster in their fight,
l am wicked in my weakness, / am cruel
to complain.
When yonder patient sufferer sits smil-
ing at his pain
Sits grooming in the Autumn moon the
ballads made to praise
The luster of his daring in the old heroic
days
Sits dreaming, Jennie, dreaming of the
battle-felds that are
The glory of the ages, since your father