Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE YOUNG SOLDIER, by ALICE CARY


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE YOUNG SOLDIER, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: Into the house ran lettice
Last Line: With a bullet-hole straight through!
Subject(s): Soldiers


INTO the house ran Lettice,
With hair so long and so bright,
Crying, "Mother! Johnny has 'listed!
He has 'listed into the fight!"

"Don't talk so wild, little Lettice!"
And she smoothed her darling's brow,
"'T is true! you'll see -- as true can be --
He told me so just now!"

"Ah, that's a likely story!
Why, darling, don't you see,
If Johnny had 'listed into the war
He would tell your father and me!"

"But he is going to go, mother,
Whether it's right or wrong;
He is thinking of it all the while,
And he won't be with us long."

"Our Johnny going to go to the war!"
"Aye, aye, and the time is near;
He said, when the corn was once in the ground,
We couldn't keep him here!"

"Hush, child! your brother Johnny
Meant to give you a fright."
"Mother, he'll go, -- I tell you I know
He's listed into the fight!

"Plucking a rose from the bush, he said,
Before its leaves were black
He'd have have a soldier's cap on his head,
And a knapsack on his back!"

"A dream! a dream! little Lettice,
A wild dream of the night;
Go find and fetch your brother in,
And he will set us right."

So out of the house ran Lettice,
Calling near and far, --
"Johnny, tell me, and tell me true,
Are you going to go to the war?"

At last she came and found him
In the dusty cattle-close,
Whistling Hail Columbia,
And beating time with his rose.

The rose he broke from the bush, when he said,
Before its leaves were black
He'd have a soldier's cap on his head,
And a knapsack on his back.

Then all in gay mock-anger,
He plucked her by the sleeve,
Saying, "Dear little, sweet little rebel,
I am going, by your leave!"

"O Johnny! Johnny!" low he stooped,
And kissed her wet cheeks dry,
And took her golden head in his hands,
And told her he would not die.

"But, Letty, if anything happens --
There won't!" and he spoke more low --
"But if anything should, you must be twice as good
As you are, to mother, you know!

"Not but that you are good, Letty,
As good as you can be;
But then you know it might be so,
You'd have to be good for me!"

So straight to the house they went, his cheeks
Flushing under his brim;
And his two broad-shouldered oxen
Turned their great eyes after him.

That night in the good old farmstead
Was many a sob of pain;
"O Johnny, stay! if you go away,
It will never be home again!"

But Time its still sure comfort lent,
Crawling, crawling past,
And Johnny's gallant regiment
Was going to march at last.

And steadying up her stricken soul,
The mother turned about,
Took what was Johnny's from the drawer
And shook the rose-leaves out;

And brought the cap she had lined with silk,
And strapped his knapsack on,
And her heart, though it bled, was proud as she said,
"You would hardly know our John!"

Another year, and the roses
Were bright on the bush by the door;
And into the house ran Lettice,
Her pale cheeks glad once more.

"O mother! news has come to-day!
'T is flying all about;
Our John's regiment, they say,
Is all to be mustered out!

"O mother, you must buy me a dress,
And ribbons of blue and buff!
Oh what shall we say to make the day
Merry and mad enough!

"The brightest day that ever yet
The sweet sun looked upon,
When we shall be dressed in our very best,
To welcome home our John!"

So up and down ran Lettice,
And all the farmstead rung
With where he would set his bayonet,
And where his cap would be hung!

And the mother put away her look
Of weary, waiting gloom,
And a feast was set and the neighbors met
To welcome Johnny home.

The good old father silent stood,
With his eager face at the pane,
And Lettice was out at the door to shout
When she saw him in the lane.

And by and by, a soldier
Came o'er the grassy hill;
It was not he they looked to see,
And every heart stood still.

He brought them Johnny's knapsack,
'T was all that he could do,
And the cap he had worn begrimed and torn,
With a bullet-hole straight through!





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