February 5, 1863
For the Patriot
THE SOLDIER’S DREAM
Far away from dear friends and home,
The soldier’s blanket
Upon the damp and frozen ground
He makes his weary bed:
But, oh, how sweetly he slumbers
While he dreams of the
The loved season of life’s springtime
was too bright to last.
He dreamt he was a boy again,
And with his friends had
Among them was a dark eyed lass,
With hair as black as jet:
Her heart was light, and happiness
Shone on her face, so
That those who with her oftimes
Could find no sadness
He told her that his youthful breast
Had long been hers alone.
And that he wished to live for her,
And claim her as his own.
He softly held her tender hand—
Praised her beauteous charms—
And, as she blushing hung her head,
He clasped her in his
And he awoke, and found, alas!
‘Twas but an idle dream.
Yet silent tears his eyes now shed—
It did so real seem;
Long years have passed since last they met,
And age has settled now
Upon each light and joyous heart,
caused the sedate brow.
Though age has come and changes sad,
Have been this soldier’s
And still that lass,
with joyous laugh,
Has never been forgot;
And while the bleak winds of winter
Drive the cold rain and
Into the soldier’s frail cloth tent,
His heart doth homeward
In prayers for those who love him most;
And her whose eyes so
Comes in happy dreams to cheer him
the long and dreary night.
by Sharon Strout]