“Is there any news of the war?” she said.
“Only a list of the wounded and dead,”
Was the man’s reply,
Without lifting his eye
To the face of the woman standing by.
“’Tis the very thing I want,” she said;
“Read me a list of the wounded and dead.”
He read the list--’twas a sad array
Of the wounded and killed in the fatal fray.
In the very midst, was a pause to tell
Of a gallant youth who fought so well
That his comrades asked: “Who is he, pray?”
“The only son of the Widow Gray,”
Was the proud reply
Of his captain nigh--
What ails the woman standing near?
Her face has the ashen hue of fear!
“Well, well, read on; is he wounded? Quick!
O God! but my heart is sorrow-sick!
Is he wounded?” “No; he fell, they say,
Killed outright on that fatal day!”
But see, the woman has swooned away!
Sadly she opened her eyes to the light;
Slowly recalled the events of the fight;
Faintly she murmured: “Killed outright!
It has cost me the life of my only son;
But the battle is fought, and the victory won;
The will of the Lord, let it be done!”
God pity the cheerless Widow Gray,
And send from the halls of eternal day
The light of his peace to illumine her way.
[Southern.]
[Illustration]
[Illustration]