. The photographic history of the Civil War : in ten volumes . t^tffc. Utes mxh i>w?etl}£arts * * My sabre swinging on the bough Gleams in the watch-fires fitful glowWhile fiercely drives the blinding snow Aslant upon my saddened brow. Those cherished faces all are gone!Asleep within the quiet gravesWhere lies the snow in drifting waves,— And I am sitting here alone. Theres not a comrade here to-nightBut knows that loved ones far awayOn bended knees this night will pray: God bring our darling from the fight. But there are none to wish me me no yearning prayers lips are mu

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. The photographic history of the Civil War : in ten volumes . t^tffc. Utes mxh i>w?etl}£arts * * My sabre swinging on the bough Gleams in the watch-fires fitful glowWhile fiercely drives the blinding snow Aslant upon my saddened brow. Those cherished faces all are gone!Asleep within the quiet gravesWhere lies the snow in drifting waves,— And I am sitting here alone. Theres not a comrade here to-nightBut knows that loved ones far awayOn bended knees this night will pray: God bring our darling from the fight. But there are none to wish me me no yearning prayers lips are mute and closed the eyes— My home is in the bivouac. William Gordon McCabe. DREAMING IN THE TRENCHES I picture her there in the quaint old the fading fire-light starts and falls, Alone in the twilights tender gloom With the shadows that dance on the dim-lit walls. Alone, while those faces look silently downFrom their antique frames in a grim repose— Slight scholarly Ralph in his Oxford stanch Sir Alan, who died for Montrose. There are gallan

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Keywords: ., bookauthormillerfrancistrevelya, bookcentury1900, bookdecade1910