Poems (Trask)/Coming Home
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For works with similar titles, see Coming Home.
COMING HOME.
"ELEVENTH NEW HAMPSHIRE."
Oh, God be thanked that from the depth
Of War's distressing night
We see, across the Southern hills,
At last, a gleam of light!
The spotless hand of Peace holds out
The olive-branch and palm,
And o'er this harassed land of ours
There falls a space of calm;
Yes, God be thanked! lift up the cry!
And, June winds, bear it flitting by,
Laden with summer balm.
Of War's distressing night
We see, across the Southern hills,
At last, a gleam of light!
The spotless hand of Peace holds out
The olive-branch and palm,
And o'er this harassed land of ours
There falls a space of calm;
Yes, God be thanked! lift up the cry!
And, June winds, bear it flitting by,
Laden with summer balm.
From many a bloody field
Behold the heroes come!
We've doubted long; but now we see
Our soldiers coming home!
Worn, and unkempt, and rough,
Scarred, and in coarse array,
But bearing still the same true hearts
They took with them away!
Oh, welcome them with heart and hand,
The gallant, loyal, faithful band
Who come to us to-day!
Behold the heroes come!
We've doubted long; but now we see
Our soldiers coming home!
Worn, and unkempt, and rough,
Scarred, and in coarse array,
But bearing still the same true hearts
They took with them away!
Oh, welcome them with heart and hand,
The gallant, loyal, faithful band
Who come to us to-day!
We miss some faces that we knew:
Beneath the Southern grass
They lie, with eyes that do not note
The shadows as they pass;
With cold ears deaf to all the sound
Of martial fife and drum
Which thrills upon the summer air
And calls their comrades home!
But heaven is just as near their rest,
And God, who loves those brave ones best,
Has spoke the sweet word, "Come!"
Beneath the Southern grass
They lie, with eyes that do not note
The shadows as they pass;
With cold ears deaf to all the sound
Of martial fife and drum
Which thrills upon the summer air
And calls their comrades home!
But heaven is just as near their rest,
And God, who loves those brave ones best,
Has spoke the sweet word, "Come!"
Welcome to all the boys in blue!
They've earned the right to fame!
We speak of them, and own with pride
There's something in a name!
God bless the feet that trampled down
The banner of the bars,—
And bless the hands that held aloft
The glorious stripes and stars!
And let the brazen bells ring clear,
And let the people, cheer on cheer,
Welcome these men of scars!
They've earned the right to fame!
We speak of them, and own with pride
There's something in a name!
God bless the feet that trampled down
The banner of the bars,—
And bless the hands that held aloft
The glorious stripes and stars!
And let the brazen bells ring clear,
And let the people, cheer on cheer,
Welcome these men of scars!