WHEN the foes, in conflict heated,
Battled over road
and bridge,
While Bragg sullenly retreated
From the
heights of Mission Ridge,�
There, amid the pines and
wildwood,
Two opposing colonels fell,
Who had
schoolmates been in childhood,
And had loved each other
well.
There, amid the roar and rattle,
Facing
Havoc's fiery breath,
Met the wounded two in battle,
In the agonies of death.
But they saw each other reeling
On the dead and dying men,
And the old time, full of
feeling,
Came upon them once again.
When that
night the moon came creeping,
With its gold streaks, o'er
the slain,
She beheld two soldiers, sleeping,
Free
from every earthly pain.
Close beside the mountain
heather,
Where the rocks obscure the sand,
They had
died, it seems, together,
As they clasped each other's
hand. |
