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in dreams hed seen friends kneeling down to raise

publish 2022-06-02,browse 34
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in dreams hed seen friends kneeling down to raise his head from the battleground, and thus hed say: tell my father that fighting i fell, mid hammering shot and screaming shell, when the south had won the day.alas! he never had dreamed of death, but as borne on whistling bullets breath, mid muskets flashing; and where the wardogs howling loud, breathe with sulphursmoke a battle cloud the shells with thunders crashing! but a fevered cot is his battleground, and slowly, calmly in death hes bound to the faroffland.no gentle sisters spirit is there, een in strangers form with tender care, to bathe his dry burning hand.the dark sod hides the form of the dead, dewdrops kiss no more that pale forehead, nor gleam on his hair.lifes hope is gone! lifes sorrowing oer, his spirit is on the echoless shore, dwelling with angels up there.thus unwept, unmourned, he sank to rest, een by human sympathy unblest, to an unknown grave! god, who notes een the sparrows fall, shall, in the dread resurrection, call to heaven the soldier brave! when the boys come home.the boys are coming home again, this war will soon be oer, the southern land again will stand, as happy as of yore; yes, hand in hand, and arm in arm, together we will roam, oh! wont we have a happy time, when all the boys come home.chorus.well hoist the starry cross again, on freedoms lofty dome; and live in peace and happiness, when all the boys come home.well hoist the starry cross again, on freedoms lofty dome; and live in peace and happiness, when all the boys come home.well have no more false hopes and fears, no more heartrending sighs the messengers of peace will dry the weary mourners eyes, well laugh and sing, well dance and play, oh! wait until they come, and joy will crown the happy day, when all the boys come home.chorus.how proud our nation then will stand! united evermore, well bid defiance to the foe, that dare approach our shore, well hoist the starry cross again, on freedoms lofty dome, and live in peace and happiness, when all the boys come home.chorus.the drummer boy of shiloh.on shilohs dark and bloody ground the dead and wounded lay, amongst them was a drummer boy that beat the drum that day; a wounded soldier raised him uphis drum was by his side he clasped his hands, and raised his eyes, and prayed before he died.look down upon the battlefield, o thou our heavenly friend, have mercy on our sinful soulsthe soldiers cried, amen! for gathered round, a little group, each brave man knelt and cried they listened to the drummer boy who prayed before he died.oh, mother, said the dying boy, look down from heaven on me! receive me to thy fond embrace! oh, take me home to thee! ive loved my country as my god, to serve them both ive tried, he smiled, shook hands, death seized the boy who prayed before he died.each soldier wept then like a childstout hearts were they and brave the flag his windingsheet! gods book the key unto his grave; they wrote upon a simple board these words, this is a guide, to those who mourn the drummer boy who prayed before he died.[illustration: alabama volunteer corps.] old stonewall.by c.d.dasher.music by f.younker.[the music of this song can be obtained of the oliver ditson co., boston, mass.] oh, dont you remember old stonewall, my boys, old stonewall on charger so gray, whose memory is dear to the sons of the south, the heroes that once wore the gray.he was true to the cause of the men that he led, heroic in death as in life, from heaven above he smiles on the brave, who have ceased from mad carnage and strife from heaven above he smiles on the brave, who have ceased from mad carnage and strife.the harvest waves over the battlefield, boys, and where bullets once pattered like rain, the peach blooms are drifting like snow in the air, and the hillocks are springing in grain, oh! green in our hearts may the memories be, of those heroes, in blue or in grey, as new growing grain, for never again, can they meet in dread battle array as new growing grain, for never again, can they meet in dread battle array.the south; or, i love thee the more.[the music of this song can be procured of the oliver ditson co., boston, mass., owners of the copyright.] my heart in its sadness turns fondly to thee, dear land where our lovd ones fought hard to be free; i loved thee when struggling, and bleeding and sore, but now thou art conquered, i love thee the more! gallant south! when the noble, the gifted, the brave, dashed onward to battle, like wave after wave, determind to die for the land they adore, though vain were their efforts, i love thee the more.bright south! though the winter is closing around, and dead leaves of autumn now carpet the ground, thy beauties of woodland, of river and shore, still charm the beholder, i love thee the more.dear south! though thy beautiful forests and hills, thy emerald valleys and silvery rills, are subject to strangersnot free as of yore thus changed, and in sorrow, i love thee the more.sweet south! lovely land of beautiful flowers, though cool now the zephyrs, and faded thy bowers, oh, soon shall the springtime thy beauties restore, and bloom oer our lost onesi love thee the more.darling south! when i think every forest and grove, and valley have pillowd the heads that we love, have echoed their war cry and drank of their gore, i feel thou art sacred, and love thee the more.the poor soldier! a popular campfire song of the 62d alabama regiment (the boy regiment.) little do rich people know, what we poor soldiers undergo called upon to take up arms, to guard our country from all harm.break of daythe morning gun, wakes the rebelsthe fife and drum, breaks a soldiers sweet repose he tumbles outputs on his clothes.first sergeant rushes in and out: hurrah! hurrah, boys! do turn out; front and rear he forms his line his coutrements and sword must shine.eyes right!steady! is the word; our captain then presents his sword the sergeant jerks out his roll names are calledthe absent told.our surgeon is a man of skill, gives the sick each day bread pills; if his pills do not act well he swears and damns our souls to hell.would you know who wrote this song, i will tellit wont take long; it was composed by a.t.height, while walking post one rainy night.the bonnie white flag; or, the prisoners invocation to peace

Hello, My name is John Doe

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