February 22, 1865. Vol. 1. No. 21. Page 4
Some tongue shall tell on some future day,
When the clouds shall have passed to return no more, --
Some thirsty heart to his spouse shall say:
“It seems like a dream in the Shenandoah!”
We sow and we reap, and we tranquilly sleep,
And worship in piece when the week is o’er;
But ah, busy wife, as I glance at my life,
“Twas not always so in the Shenandoah.”
“You have known me here as a piece [sic] loving man,
With naught in my thoughts but my farmer’s store,
Save a seat on my horse, which came, of course,
When I served in the ranks in the Shenandoah;
When I rode like a man with Sheridan,
And my ears were deep in the trumpet’s lore,
And strong for the right was my arm of might,
When I fought for the flag in the Shenandoah.”
I have born that flag in many a fight,
And always prompt at the trumpet’s call;
Ah, that sound!—that sound was my soul’s delight,
For death was naught, and the flag was all!
When it flapped in the wind to old Stephen’s stride,
The reins on his neck and the sword arm free,
When—each did his best by his fellow’s side—
Twas thus that we rode to victory!
At Cedar Creek, in the battle’s van,
Twas thus that we charged with Sheridan.
But why should I tell of the bugle’s blast,
Of the burning homes and the battle’s roar—
To blanch thy cheek with the bloody past,
When all is still in the Shenandoah!
Then God be praised for the peaceful times.
With no tyrant’s foot on this happy shore,
And to Him let us pray, this sweet Sabbath day,
While the church bells chime through the Shenandoah!