Lines suggested by a Letter from the Thirty-fifth Massachusetts Regiment

THE tidings sweet just reaching me,That health and joy attend,I'd write that all who love may see,Though discord in my theme may be;Yet from my heart how gratefully,Shall prayer and song ascend.

The Alleghanies, heaven-spanned,Clothed in their vernal dress,They've crossed, while showers and breezes fanned;The noble Thirty-fifth there stand,A tried, a loyal band,Unflinching to aggress.

To-night by fair Kentucky's streams,One 'midst this loyal band,Near where the traitor's camp-fire beams,My youthful soldier's rifle gleams;'Tis this that colors all my dreams,Unnerves my heart and hand.

To each, whatever be his rank,A laurel should be given.And they, who in past conflict sank,Escaped the bitter dregs we drankIn homes still desolate and blank,For martyred ones in heaven.

Their files are thinned by battle's tide,And broken forms are there;The chieftain Wild, restored to guide,And King, the dauntless, by his side,Our glorious banner still his pride,The enemy will dare.

The absent we our vigils keepWhere'er on guard, in tent;Our sympathies are hushed and deepOn tired march, or when asleep;Round vacant beds we pray or weep,And life with love is blent.