Under the crimson sunset sky Virginian woodlands leafless lie, In wintry torpor bleak and dun.

Through the rich vault of heaven, which shines Like a warmed opal in the sun, With wide advance in broken lines The crows fly over Washington.

Over the Capitol's white dome, Across the obelisk soaring bare To p.r.i.c.k the clouds, they travel home, Content and weary, winnowing With dusky vans the golden air, Which hints the coming of the spring, Though winter whitens Washington.

The dim, deep air, the level ray Of dying sunlight on their plumes, Give them a beauty not their own; Their hoa.r.s.e notes fail and faint away; A rustling murmur floating down Blends sweetly with the thickening glooms; They touch with grace the fading day, Slow flying over Washington.

I stand and watch with clouded eyes These dim battalions move along; Out of the distance memory cries Of days when life and hope were strong, When love was prompt and wit was gay; Even then, at evening, as to-day, I watched, while twilight hovered dim Over Potomac's curving rim, This selfsame flight of homing crows Blotting the sunset's fading rose, Above the roofs of Washington.

REMORSE.

Sad is the thought of sunniest days Of love and rapture perished, And shine through memory's tearful haze The eyes once fondliest cherished.

Reproachful is the ghost of toys That charmed while life was wasted.

But saddest is the thought of joys That never yet were tasted.

Sad is the vague and tender dream Of dead love's lingering kisses, To crushed hearts haloed by the gleam Of unreturning blisses; Deep mourns the soul in anguished pride For the pitiless death that won them,-- But the saddest wail is for lips that died With the virgin dew upon them.

ESSE QUAM VIDERI.

The knightly legend of thy shield betrays The moral of thy life; a forecast wise, And that large honour that deceit defies, Inspired thy fathers in the elder days, Who decked thy scutcheon with that st.u.r.dy phrase, TO BE RATHER THAN SEEM. As eve's red skies Surpa.s.s the morning's rosy prophecies, Thy life to that proud boast its answer pays.

Scorning thy faith and purpose to defend The ever-mutable mult.i.tude at last Will hail the power they did not comprehend,-- Thy fame will broaden through the centuries; As, storm and billowy tumult overpast, The moon rules calmly o'er the conquered seas.

WHEN THE BOYS COME HOME.

There's a happy time coming, When the boys come home.

There's a glorious day coming, When the boys come home.

We will end the dreadful story Of this treason dark and gory In a sunburst of glory, When the boys come home.

The day will seem brighter When the boys come home, For our hearts will be lighter When the boys come home.

Wives and sweethearts will press them In their arms and caress them, And pray G.o.d to bless them, When the boys come home.

The thinned ranks will be proudest When the boys come home, And their cheer will ring the loudest When the boys come home.

The full ranks will be shattered, And the bright arms will be battered, And the battle-standards tattered, When the boys come home.

Their bayonets may be rusty, When the boys come home, And their uniforms dusty, When the boys come home.

But all shall see the traces Of battle's royal graces, In the brown and bearded faces, When the boys come home.

Our love shall go to meet them, When the boys come home, To bless them and to greet them, When the boys come home; And the fame of their endeavour Time and change shall not dissever From the nation's heart for ever, When the boys come home.

LESE-AMOUR.

How well my heart remembers Beside these camp-fire embers The eyes that smiled so far away,-- The joy that was November's.

Her voice to laughter moving, So merrily reproving,-- We wandered through the autumn woods, And neither thought of loving.

The hills with light were glowing, The waves in joy were flowing,-- It was not to the clouded sun The day's delight was owing.

Though through the brown leaves straying, Our lives seemed gone a-Maying; We knew not Love was with us there, No look nor tone betraying.

How unbelief still misses The best of being's blisses!

Our parting saw the first and last Of love's imagined kisses.

Now 'mid these scenes the drearest I dream of her, the dearest,-- Whose eyes outshine the Southern stars, So far, and yet the nearest.

And Love, so gaily taunted, Who died, no welcome granted, Comes to me now, a pallid ghost, By whom my life is haunted.

With bonds I may not sever, He binds my heart for ever, And leads me where we murdered him,-- The Hill beside the River.

CAMP SHAW, FLORIDA, February 1864.

NORTHWARD.

Under the high unclouded sun That makes the ship and shadow one, I sail away as from the fort Booms sullenly the noonday gun.

The odorous airs blow thin and fine, The sparkling waves like emeralds shine, The l.u.s.tre of the coral reefs Gleams whitely through the tepid brine.

And glitters o'er the liquid miles The jewelled ring of verdant isles, Where generous Nature holds her court Of ripened bloom and sunny smiles.

Encinctured by the faithful seas Inviolate gardens load the breeze, Where flaunt like giant-warders' plumes The pennants of the cocoa-trees.

Enthroned in light and bathed in balm, In lonely majesty the Palm Blesses the isles with waving hands,-- High-Priest of the eternal Calm.

Yet Northward with an equal mind I steer my course, and leave behind The rapture of the Southern skies,-- The wooing of the Southern wind.

For here o'er Nature's wanton bloom Falls far and near the shade of gloom, Cast from the hovering vulture-wings Of one dark thought of woe and doom.

I know that in the snow-white pines The brave Norse fire of freedom shines, And fain for this I leave the land Where endless summer pranks the vines.

O strong, free North, so wise and brave!

O South, too lovely for a slave!