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1. WAR ECHOES.

NO WRITER ATTRIBUTED

A moment more, it came again;

I looked and listened; shortly then

I saw a woman's figure bending

Over a corse, her arms extending

To Heaven, as if in supplication;

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Thence came that bitter lamentation.

I neared the spot; she strove to smother

A wail, and murmured low, "My brother!"

I saw there, by the moon's pale light,

The soldier's features, stiff and white;

I saw his uniform of gray,

His coat besmeared with blood and grime,

And recognized; as dead he lay,

My poor old Jack of other time!

Back rushed to me those college scenes, -

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