ON THE RAPPAHANNOCK

ON THE RAPPAHANNOCK
The sun had set, and in the distant West The last red streaks had faded; night and rest Fell on the earth; stilled was the cannon's roar; And many a soldier slept! to wake no more. 'Twas early Spring—a calm and lovely night-- The moon had flooded all the earth with light.
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On either side the Rappahannoek lay
The armies; resting till the break of day
Should call them to renew the fight. So near
Together were the camps that each could hear
The other's sentry call. And now appear
The blazing bivouac fires on every hill,
And save the tramp of pickets all is still.
Between those silent hills in beauty flows
The Eappahannock. How its bosom glows!
How all its sparkling waves reflect the light
And add new glories to the starlit night.
But hark! From Northern hill there steal along
The strains of martial music mixed with song:
"Star Spangled Banner, may'st thou ever wave,
Over the land we shed our blood to save!''
And still they sing those words: i' Our cause is just.
"We Tl triumph in the end; in God we trust;
Star Spangled Banner, wave, forever wave,
Over a land united, free and brave!''
Scarce had this died away when all along
The river rose another glorious song:
A thousand lusty throats the chorus sing:
With "Rally Round the Flag," the hilltops ring.
And well they sang. Each heart was filled with joy.
From first in rank to little drummer-boy.
Then loud huzzas and wildest cheers were given,
That seemed to cleave the air and reach to heaven.
The Union songs, the loud and heartfelt cheers
Fall in the Southern camp on listening ears.
While talking at their scanty evening meal
They pause and grasp their trusty blades of steel.
Fearless they stand and ready for the fray;
Such sounds can startle them, but not dismay.
Alas! Those strains of music which of yore
Could rouse their hearts, are felt by them no more.
"When the last echo of the song had died
And all was silent on the Northern side,
There came from Southern hill, with gentle swell,
The air of "Dixie" which was loved so well
By every man that wore the coat of gray,
And is revered and cherished to this day.
"In Dixie's Land" they swore to live and die,
That was their watchword, that their battle-cry.
Then rose on high the wild Confederate yell,
Besounding over every hill and dell.
Cheer after cheer went up that starry night
From men as brave as ever saw the light.
Now all is still. Each side has played its part.
How simple songs will fire a soldier's heart.
But hark! O'er Rappahannock's stream there floats
Another tune; but ah! how sweet the notes.
Not such as lash men's passions into foam,
But—richest gem of song—'Tis"Home, Sweet Home!"
Played by the band, it reached the very soul,
And down the veteran's cheeks the tear-drop stole.
On either side the stream, from North and South,
Men who would march up to the cannon's mouth,
Wept now like children. Tender hearts and true
Were beating 'neath those coats of gray and blue.
The sentry stopped and rested on his gun,
While back to home his thoughts unhindered run.
He thought of loving wife and children there
Deprived of husband's and of father's care.
And stripling lads, scarce strong enough to bear
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The weight of saber or of knapsack, tried To stop their tears with foolish, boyish pride. They might as well have sought to stop the tide! Through both those hostile camps the music stole And stirred each soldier to his inmost soul. From North and South, in sympathy, there rose A shout tremendous; forgetting they were foes, Both armies joined and shouted with one voice That seemed to make the very heavens rejoice.
Sweet music's power. One chord doth make us wild. But change the strain, we weep as little child. Touch yet another, men charge the battery-gun, And by those martial strains a victory's won! But there's one strain that friends and foes will win, One magic touch that makes the whole world kin: No heart so cold, but will, tho far it roam, Respond with tender thrill to "Home, Sweet Home!'