STUARD, HENRY C. - Written on the death of Henry C. Stuard, member of
Company E, 8th O. V. V. C., who was killed.
With aching heart his mother blessed
Her dear her youngest son,
With many tears, his hand she pressed
And begged him stay at home.
Before me lies my country dear
With every varied charm,
Mother bid me go and fight for it,
And pray I'll meet no harm.
"Farewell" still lingers on their lips
Within his childhood's home
But sh! sad news they hear from him
He sleeps within the tomb.
Well may she weep for none e'er wept
A nobler son than he
And many bitter tears were shed
The tears of sympathy.
His noble form, alas! is laid
Within the narrow tomb
And his brother wept that he should die
So far from friends and home.
His dying words on every breeze
With mournful melody
Are borne to those who loved and lost--
How terrible to die!
Dear friends he could not say adieu
For he was far from home
But Oh! how terrible it is to die
In manhood's early prime.
So far away from friends and home
'Mong strangers he must die
With none to mark the spot nor mourn--
How terrible to die!
Weeping, his friends, and mother dear,
For soon a union shall be given
And when thou she in bliss appear
He will kiss thee at the gates of Heaven.
Hale F. Crampton