Upon a dreary mountain top Where pine-trees dismal moan, There is a solitary grave With briers and weeds overgrown. They say a soldier fills that grave, Who bravely fought and died For rights and liberties On the Confederate side. But little does it matter now, Can't we forgive his fault? And the faults of his fellow soldiers As we stand by his wooded vault? No name is on the rough pine slab Which marks the lonely spot; His name is not forgot. But in some far-off Southern home No loving friends nor kindred Have wept here by his grave, Or planted flowers tender Over his bosom to wave. They know not where he reposes, They cannot find him to-day; They just know that he died in battle, From home and friends far away. So let us to-day bring flowers, And tenderly strew above The dust of the sleeping soldier These tokens of our love! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO TIRZAH, FR. SONGS OF EXPERIENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE CHILDE ROLAND TO THE DARK TOWER CAME' by ROBERT BROWNING THE PATRIOT; AN OLD STORY by ROBERT BROWNING THE SHRUBBERY, WRITTEN IN A TIME OF AFFLICTION by WILLIAM COWPER AN ANTE-BELLUM SERMON by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR THE ONE GRAY HAIR by WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR |