Poems (Eaton)/When my Boy comes back
WHEN MY BOY COMES BACK.[1]
WHEN my boy comes back to me,
O! when my boy conies back to me—
This is the burden of the song,
Whose echoes float my life along;
The language of the cherished hope,
Which bears my weary spirit up,
Through lonely days of sadness deep,
And nights unblessed by peaceful sleep.
As sweetest scents from crushed flowers rise,
As stars gleam out from dark'ning skies,
As rainbow through fast falling shower
Gives promise of preserving power,
So through the midnight cloud of war
Shines forth this brightly beaming star;
So o'er the battle's roar steals up
This sweetest song of deathless hope;
And yielding to its witching strain
My heart beats high with joy again,
And pictures of sure-coming bliss
Fill up my world with happiness;
Sweet prophecies of what shall be
When my boy comes back to me.
When my boy comes back to me,
Dear soldier-boy comes back to me—
How oft at fancy's burning shrine
I light this radiant torch of mine,
And revel in its glowing ray,
Till darkest night is brightest day.
When watching long, my straining eye
At last, some moving form shall spy
And in the shadowy distance see
My darling, coming back to me,
O, if my heart break not with joy,
At sight of my returning boy,
How shall my arms around him twine,
How press his sun-browned cheek to mine,
How shall I list his every tone,
As^heaven should speak through him alone,
How all the pangs of absence past,
We'll part no more till death at last.
My God! alone, Thou hast the power
To bring this fancied, blissful hour,
To Thee I look, my child to keep
Unharmed and pure, through perils deep,
And bring the joyful time, when he,
Brave loyal heart, comes back to me.
O! when my boy conies back to me—
This is the burden of the song,
Whose echoes float my life along;
The language of the cherished hope,
Which bears my weary spirit up,
Through lonely days of sadness deep,
And nights unblessed by peaceful sleep.
As sweetest scents from crushed flowers rise,
As stars gleam out from dark'ning skies,
As rainbow through fast falling shower
Gives promise of preserving power,
So through the midnight cloud of war
Shines forth this brightly beaming star;
So o'er the battle's roar steals up
This sweetest song of deathless hope;
And yielding to its witching strain
My heart beats high with joy again,
And pictures of sure-coming bliss
Fill up my world with happiness;
Sweet prophecies of what shall be
When my boy comes back to me.
When my boy comes back to me,
Dear soldier-boy comes back to me—
How oft at fancy's burning shrine
I light this radiant torch of mine,
And revel in its glowing ray,
Till darkest night is brightest day.
When watching long, my straining eye
At last, some moving form shall spy
And in the shadowy distance see
My darling, coming back to me,
O, if my heart break not with joy,
At sight of my returning boy,
How shall my arms around him twine,
How press his sun-browned cheek to mine,
How shall I list his every tone,
As^heaven should speak through him alone,
How all the pangs of absence past,
We'll part no more till death at last.
My God! alone, Thou hast the power
To bring this fancied, blissful hour,
To Thee I look, my child to keep
Unharmed and pure, through perils deep,
And bring the joyful time, when he,
Brave loyal heart, comes back to me.
Glen-Echo Home, December, 1863.
- ↑ Chase Hall Eaton, of the Second Vermont Volunteers.