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SOLlLOQUY


OF THE SOLDIERS WIDOW.
THO he lives on the pages Of story,
Tho he died at the summit flame,
Tho bray'ry enrobes him in glory,
His body lies dead on the plain.
Stern fate has nip'd life in its bloom,
Has sever'd vitality's blossom,
And shrouded my prospectsin in gloom
My solace has torn from my bosom.
Tho sonnets are sung of the brave,
Who fell in the heat Of the strife,
The laurels that shadow their grave,
Bring not the departed to life,
They lie with the clods Of the earth,
That rudely their cold corses cover,
Unheeding the euiogist's breath,
Unbeeding the storm that blows over.
But widows and orphans are left
To weep az the fortune Of W ar
friends and protectors bereft,
They sink meath the waves of despair.