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Excerpt from Police Record of the Spies, Smugglers and Rebel Emissaries in Tennessee: Being Selections From the "Annals of the Army of the Cumberland"
The day has sped. The night-winds wildly moan Their wintry chorus o'er the prairie West; Weird, wandering Shadows, lengthening, ¿oating on To angels' realms, find refuge in their breast. Hark to the sound! The engine's rushing blast Thrills through the hamlet as it rattles past.
An aged father totters to the door. Great battle fought -he trembles at the cry; The dim-eyed mother breathes a broken prayer For souls now hushed in death and victory. Resounds the shout, The battle surely won Ah! Where their boy who to the war has gone?
The prattler, standing by his mother's knee, Lists to the shout, and eager clasps her hand Oh, tell me, mamma, where in Tennessee Is papa now, - and where his patriot band? He hears the sob; he startles at the tear, And quivering lips which faintly murmur, Where?
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