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Soldiers' and sailors' patriotic songs

(1864)

p. 15

14
SOLDIERS' AND SAILORS'
He counteth the hair of vour heads, darling,
And noteth the sparrow's fall."
Then I sung them to their sleep, Harry,
With hymns all trust and love,
And I knew that God was listening
From his gracious throne above.
And since that calm, sweet evening,
I have felt so happy, dear !
And so have the children, Harry ;
They seem to know no fear.
They talk of your coming home, Harry,
As something sure to be;
I list to their childish pratings,
Nor care to check their glee.
For oh ! 'tis a cause so noble,
And you so brave and true ;
And God protects bis own, Harry,
And surely will watch o'er you.
So keep up a brave good heart, Harry I
God willing—and he knows best—
We'll welcome you, safe and happy,
Back to the dear home-nest.
And Maud and Rose and Willie
Shall yet, with a moistened eye,
Give thanks to the dear, good Father,
While you stand tearful by.
THE LITTLE DRUMMER
A SOLmnK'3 STORY.
BY R. H. STODDARD.
I.
'Tis of a little drummer
The story I shall tell;
Of how he marched to battle,
And all that there befell.
Out in the West with Lyon,
(For once the name was true,)
For whom the little drummer beat
His rat-tot-too.
Our army rose at midnight,
Ten thousand men as one,
Kach slinging on his knapsack,
And snatching up his gun :
"Forward!" and off they started,
As all good soldiers do,
When the little drummer beats for them
His rat-tat-too.
in.
Across a roiling country,
Where the mist began to rise ;
Past many a blackened farm-house,
Till the sun was in the skies:
Then we met the rebel pickets,
Who skirmished and withdrew,
While the little drummer beat and beat
The rat-tat-too.
A'?ng the wooded hollows
The line of battle ran.
Our centre poured a volley,
And the fight at once began ;
For the rebels answered shouting,
. And a shower of bullets flew;
But still the little drummer beat
His rat-tat-too.
He stood among his comrades,
As they quickly formed the line,
And when they raised their muskets
He watched the barrels shine !
When the volley rang, he started !
For war to him was new;
But still the little drummer beat
His rat-tat-too.
VI.
It was a sight to see them
That early autumn day.
Our soldiers in their blue coats,
And the rebel ranks in gray :
The smoke that rolled between them.
The balls that whistled through,
And the little drummer as he beat
His rat- tat-too !
VII.
His comrades dropped around him—
By fives and tens they fell,
Some pierced by Minie bullets,
Some torn by shot and shell;
They played against our cannon,
And a caisson's splinters flew;
But still the little drummer beat
His rat-tat-too !
Till.
The right, the left, the centre—
The fight was everywhere ;
They pushed us here—we wavered—
We drove and broke them there.
The gray-backs fixed their bayonets,
And charged the coats of blue ;
But still the little drummer beat
His rat-tat-too I
" Where is our little drummer ?"
His nearest comrades say,
When the dreadful fight is over,
And the smoke has cleared away.
As the rebel corps was scattering
He urged them to pursue,
So furiously he beat and beat
The rat-tat-too !
x.
He stood no more among them,
For a bullet as it sped,
Had glanced and struck his ankle,
And stretehed him with the dead 1
He crawled behind a cannon,
And pale and paler grew :
But still the little drummer beat
His rat-tat-too I

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