| |
| THE MAID who binds her warrior’s sash | |
| With smile that well her pain dissembles, | |
| The while beneath her drooping lash | |
| One starry tear-drop hangs and trembles, | |
| Though Heaven alone records the tear, | 5 |
| And Fame shall never know her story, | |
| Her heart has shed a drop as dear | |
| As e’er bedewed the field of glory! | |
| |
| The wife who girds her husband’s sword, | |
| Mid little ones who weep or wonder, | 10 |
| And bravely speaks the cheering word, | |
| What though her heart be rent asunder, | |
| Doomed nightly in her dreams to hear | |
| The bolts of death around him rattle, | |
| Hath shed as sacred blood as e’er | 15 |
| Was poured upon the field of battle! | |
| |
| The mother who conceals her grief | |
| While to her breast her son she presses, | |
| Then breathes a few brave words and brief, | |
| Kissing the patriot brow she blesses, | 20 |
| With no one but her secret God | |
| To know the pain that weighs upon her, | |
| Sheds holy blood as e’er the sod | |
| Received on Freedom’s field of honor! | |
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