By Fred J. Willoughby
April 12, 1865. Vol. 1. No. 28. Page 1
We went at night when all was still,
Save twittering noise of Whip-poor-will,
And dug the graves, to hide our dead
From sight of foe and careless tread.
And some there were among us then,
Whose hearts were moved with sudden pain,
For ‘mong the numbers lying ‘round,
Were those whose names could not be found,
Nor simple letter, pictured face,
Nor regiment, nor any trace;
And side by side we sadly laid,
Within the shallow graves just made,
The unknown, nameless soldiers!
Ah, some there were among those killed,
Whose blood so freely had been spilled,
Wore smiles upon their pallid lips;
And though their eyes were in eclipse,
They seemed to us as in a dream,
Some blessed vision o’er them beam—
Mayhap, a mother’s loving eyes
Looked down on them from paradise,
And smiled, and beckoned them to come,
And share with her that happy home;
But some there were whose faces bore
The look that martyrs often wore,
And these the unknown soldiers!
The only record on the stone,
Read—“Union Soldier—name unknown;”
And through that long and dreary night,
How many such we had to write!
It made us sad when e’er we came
To mark with trembling hand the name
Of comrades whom we knew full well,
Who on that day in battle fell;
But sadder still the heart would grow,
At sight of those we did not know;--
But each and all by God are known,
And He will take and He will own
The Unknown Union Soldiers!