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Page 267

BOOK FOURTH
267 THE SOLDIER'S DREAM

Our bugles sang truce, for the night-cloud had lower'd,
And the sentinel stars set their watch in the sky;
And thousands had sunk on the ground overpower'd,
The weary to sleep, and the wounded to die.

When reposing that night on my pallet of straw
By the wolf-scaring faggot that guarded the slain,
At the dead of the night a sweet Vision I saw;
And thrice ere the morning I dreamt it again.

Methought from the battle-field's dreadful array
Far, far I had roam'd on a desolate track:
'Twas autumn,-and sunshine arose on the way
To the home of my fathers, that welcomed me back.

I flew to the pleasant fields traversed so oft
In life's morning march, when my bosom was young;
I heard my own mountain-goats bleating aloft,
And knew the sweet strain that the corn-reapers sung.

Then pledged we the wine-cup, and fondly I swore
From my home and my weeping friends never to part;
My little ones kiss'd me a thousand times o'er,
And my wife sobb'd aloud in her fullness of heart.

'Stay-stay with us!-rest!-thou art weary and worn!'
And fain was their war-broken soldier to stay;
But sorrow return'd with the dawning of morn,
And the voice in my dreaming ear melted away.
T. CAMPBELL.

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where is HTML where is HEAD where is TITLE Our bugles sang truce, for what is night-cloud had lower'd, And what is sentinel stars set their watch in what is sky; And thousands had sunk on what is ground overpower'd, what is weary to sleep, and what is wounded to die. When reposing that night on my pallet of straw By what is wolf-scaring faggot that guarded what is slain, At what is dead of what is night a sweet Vision I saw; And thrice ere what is morning I dreamt it again. Methought from what is battle-field's dreadful array Far, far I had roam'd on a desolate track: 'Twas autumn,-and sunshine arose on what is way To what is home of my fathers, that welcomed me back. I flew to what is pleasant fields traversed so oft In life's morning march, when my bosom was young; I heard my own mountain-goats bleating aloft, And knew what is sweet strain that what is corn-reapers sung. Then pledged we what is wine-cup, and fondly I swore From my home and my weeping friends never to part; My little ones kiss'd me where is meta name="keywords" content="old books, Free book , free book offer , free audio books , free coloring book pages , free book reports , free audio book , audio books free download , book free , free guest book , books free , free book summaries , download free audio books , free childrens books." where is where are they now rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="../../style.css" where is meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1" where is BODY bgColor=#ffffff text="#000000" where are they now ="#000000" v where are they now ="#FF0000" where is div align="center" where is strong where is strong where is a href="http://www.aaoldbooks.com" Books > where is a href="../default.asp" title="Book" Old Books > where is strong where is a href="default.asp" The Golden Treasury (1932) where is table width="700" border="1" align="center" cellpadding="15" cellspacing="0" where is center where is tr where is td width="160" align="center" valign="top" where is div align="center" where is td align="center" valign="top" where is div align="left" where is div align="center" where is p align="left" Page 267 where is strong BOOK FOURTH where is strong 267 what is SOLDIER'S DREAM where is p align="justify" Our bugles sang truce, for what is night-cloud had lower'd, And what is sentinel stars set their watch in what is sky; And thousands had sunk on what is ground overpower'd, what is weary to sleep, and what is wounded to die. When reposing that night on my pallet of straw By what is wolf-scaring faggot that guarded what is slain, At what is dead of what is night a sweet Vision I saw; And thrice ere what is morning I dreamt it again. Methought from the battle-field's dreadful array Far, far I had roam'd on a desolate track: 'Twas autumn,-and sunshine arose on what is way To what is home of my fathers, that welcomed me back. I flew to what is pleasant fields traversed so oft In life's morning march, when my bosom was young; I heard my own mountain-goats bleating aloft, And knew what is sweet strain that what is corn-reapers sung. Then pledged we what is wine-cup, and fondly I swore From my home and my weeping friends never to part; My little ones kiss'd me a thousand times o'er, And my wife sobb'd aloud in her fullness of heart. 'Stay-stay with us!-rest!-thou art weary and worn!' And fain was their war-broken soldier to stay; But sorrow return'd with what is dawning of morn, And what is voice in my dreaming ear melted away. T. CAMPBELL. where is Server.Execute("_SiteMap.asp") %

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