Friday, October 19, 2007

Gone are they, gone--ah, welladay!



The flower and pride of our array;
And all the Eastland, from whose breast
Came forth her bravest and her best,
Craves longingly with boding dread--
Parents for sons, and brides new-wed
For absent lords, and, day by day,
Shudder with dread at their delay!