Into a ward of the
whitewashed walls,
Where the dead and the dying lay
Wounded by bayonets, shells and balls
Somebody's darling was borne one day.
Somebody's darling! So young and so brave,
Wearing still on his pale, sweet face,
Soon to be hid by the dust of the grave,
The lingering light of his boyhoods grace.
Matted and damp are
the curls of gold
Kissing the snow of that fair young brow;
Pale are the lips of delicate mould
Somebody's darling is dying now.
Back from the beautiful, blue-veined face,
Brush every wandering silken thread;
Cross his hands as a sign of grace
Somebody's darling is still and dead.
Kiss him once for
Somebody's sake,
Murmur a prayer soft and low,
One bright curl from the cluster take
They were somebody's pride, you know.
Somebody's band bath rested there:
Was it a mothers, soft and white I
And have the lips of a sister fair
Been baptized in those waves of light
God knows best. He was
somebody's love;
Somebody's heart enshrined him there;
Somebody wafted his name above,
Night and morn on the wings of prayer.
Somebody wept when he marched away,
Looking so handsome, brave and grand;
Somebody's kiss on his forehead lay;
Somebody clung to his parting hand.
Yearning to hold him again to her heart:
There he lies with the blue eyes dim,
And smiling, child-like lips apart.
Tenderly bury the fair young dead,
Pausing to drop on his grave a tear;
Carve on the wooden slab at his head
Somebody's darling lies buried here!
CIVIL WAR MONUMENT at GETTYSBURG
DEDICATED to LIGHT ARTILLERYMEN & PARROTT CANNONS