Classic and Contemporary Poetry
BY THE SHENANDOAH; OCTOBER, 1863, by EDNA DEAN PROCTOR Poet's Biography First Line: My home is drear and still to-night Last Line: My courtney fair and my philip bold! Alternate Author Name(s): Dean Subject(s): American Civil War; Courage; Nature; U.s. - History; Valor; Bravery | ||||||||
MY home is drear and still to-night, Where Shenandoah, murmuring, flows; The Blue Ridge towers in the pale moonlight, And balmily the south wind blows; But my fire burns dim, while athwart the wall, Black as the pines, the shadows fall; And the only friend within my door Is the sleeping hound on the moonlit floor. Roll back, O weary years! and bring Again the gay and cloudless morn When every bird was on the wing, And my blithe, summer boys were born! My Courtney fair, my Philip bold, With his laughing eyes and his locks of gold No nested bird in the valley wide Sang as my heart, that eventide. Our laurels blush when May-winds call; Our pines shoot high through mellow showers; So rosy-flushed, so slender-tall, My boys grew up from childhood's hours. Glad in the breeze, the sun, the rain, They climbed the heights or they roamed the plain; And found where the fox lay hid at noon, And the shy fawn drank by the rising moon. Fleet Storm, look up! you ne'er may hear, When all the dewy glades are still, In silver windings, fine and clear, Their whistle stealing o'er the hill! Nor fly to the shade where the wild deer rest, Ere morn has reddened the mountain's crest; Nor sit at their feet, when the chase is o'er, And the antlers hang by the sunset-door. What drew our hunters from the hills? They heard the hostile trumpets blow, And leapt adown like April rills When Shenandoah roars below. One, to the field where the old flag shines, And one, alas! to the rebel lines! My tears their fond arms round me thrown And the house was hushed and the hillside lone. But oh! to feel my boys were foes Was sharper than their sabres' steel! In every shifting cloud that rose I saw their deadly squadrons wheel; And heard in the waves, as they hurried by, Their hasty tread when the fight was nigh, And, deep in the wail the night-winds bore, Their dying moan when the fight was o'er. So time went on. The skies were blue; Our wheat-fields yellow in the sun; When down the vale a rider flew: 'Ho, neighbors! Gettysburg is won! Horse and foot, at the cannon's mouth We hurled them back to the hungry South The North is safe; and the vile marauder Curses the hour he crossed the border!' My boys were there! I nearer prest, 'And Philip, Courtney, what of them?' His voice dropped low: 'O madam! rest Falls sweet when battle's tide we stem. Your Philip was first of the brave that day With his colors grasped as in death he lay; And Courtney well, I only knew Not a man was left of his rebel crew.' My home is drear and still to-night Where Shenandoah, murmuring, flows The Blue Ridge towers in the pale moonlight, And balmily the south wind blows; But my fire burns dim, while athwart the wall, Black as the pines, the shadows fall; And the only friend within my door Is the sleeping hound on the moonlit floor. Yet still in dreams my boys I own; They chase the deer o'er dewy hills, Their hair by mountain winds is blown, Their shout the echoing valley fills. Wafts from the woodland, spring sunshine, Come as they open this door of mine, And I hear them sing by the evening blaze The songs they sang in the vanished days. I cannot part their lives and say, 'This was the traitor, this the true'; God only knows why one should stray, And one go pure death's portals through. They have passed from their mother's clasp and care But my heart ascends in the yearning prayer That His larger love will the two enfold, My Courtney fair and my Philip bold! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...UNLESS IT WAS COURAGE by MARVIN BELL THE QUALITY OF COURAGE by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET ON THE OREGON COAST; FOR WILLIAM STAFFORD by ROBERT BLY WORDS WITH WALLACE STEVENS by ROBERT BLY BUFFALO CLOUDS OVER THE MAESTRO HOON by NORMAN DUBIE A SONG OF COURAGE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE AUDACIOUS by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON OH, THE WATER by DORIANNE LAUX COLUMBUS DYING [MAY 20, 1506] by EDNA DEAN PROCTOR SA-CA-GA-WE-A; THE INDIAN GIRL WHO GUIDED LEWIS AND CLARK by EDNA DEAN PROCTOR |
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