He goes the sea-ways
By channel lights dim,
Her love, a true light,
Watches for him.
They would be wedded
On a fair yesterday,
But the quick regiment
Saw him away.
Gray mist in her eyes
And the night coming down:
He feels a prayer
>From a far town.
He goes the sea-ways,
The land lights are dim;
She and an altar light
Keep watch for him.
1
THE COUNTERSIGN
Along Virginia's wondering roads
While armies hastened on,
To Beauregard's great Southern host,
Manassas fields upon,
Came Colonel Smith's good regiment,
Eager for Washington.
But Colonel Smith must halt his men
In a dangerous delay,
Though well he knows the countryside
To the distant host of grey.
He cannot join with Beauregard
For Bull Run's bloody fray.
And does he halt for storm or ford,
Or does he stay to dine?
Say, No! but death will meet his men,
Onward if moves the line:
He dares not hurry to Beauregard,
Not knowing the countersign.
Flashed in the sun his waving sword;
"Who rides for me?" he cried,
"And ask of the Chief the countersign,
Upon a daring ride;
Though never the lad come back again
With the good that will betide.
"I will send a letter to Beauregard,"
The Colonel slowly said;
"The bearer dies at the pickets' line,
But the letter shall be read
When the pickets find it for the Chief,
In the brave hand of the dead."
2
The Countersign
"Ready I ride to the Chief for the sign,"
Said little Dan O'Shea,
"Though never I come from the picket's line,
But a faded suit of grey:
Yet over my death will the road be safe,
And the regiment march away.
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