American Citizen

Select Poetry.

Published by request.

THE SOLDIER'S DREAM.

BY J.S. G.

In slumbers of midnight a brave soldier lay
Regardless in sleep of storm or of rain;
But, watch-worn and weary, his cares flew away,
And scenes of the past are present again.

He dreams of his home. the home of his youth,
That blessed retreat from sorrow and care :
And again through the distance—oh, that it wore truth!
He treads its old halls as free as the air.

A father bends o'er him and blesses his son;
His cheek is bedewed by a mother's warm tear,
But still he is blessed by the love-kiss of one,
Though loved are they all to his bosom most dear.

The heart of the sleeper beats high in his breast;
No joy that's of earth can be purer than his;
And a murmur of happiness steals through his rest
"My Father in Heaven, I thank thee for this."

What sound is that which bursts o'er the night?
What flashing of light that now reddens the sky?
Tis the roaring of cannon, the bursting of bombs,
The red glare of battle? the foeman is nigh !

Like a true soldier he springs from his bed,
And "falls in" the ranks with rifle in hand;
He dreams not of danger, but glory, instead,
And impatiently waits the word of command.

The battle is over, the victory won;
Brave hearts and cold steel have gained us the day.
We exult o'er our fortune, but weep for our slain,
That rigid and cold on the battle field lay.

Where now is the sleeper? oh, where is the boy
Who saw in his visions such blessings in store?
He sleeps. but dreams not, for a ball found his head,
He sleeps to awaken to glory no more.

Days, months, years and ages shall circle away,
The ocean of time to eternity roll;
Thou art lost to earth's loved ones for ever and aye!
Soldier and brother, peace be to thy soul!