Page 62 - The model orator, or, Young folks' speaker : containing the choicest recitations and readings from the best authors for schools, public entertainments, social gatherings, Sunday schools, etc. : including recitals in prose and verse ...
P. 62

Give  us  “'Flowers  of  Edinboro',
                                                 While  yon  lifer plays  it  loo.
                                              Captain,  heard  yc  e'er  a player
                                                 Strike in truer time  than he ? ”
                                            “ ^■’ay,  hi iaith,  brave  San tlie  Murray
                                                 Drummer  of  our  corps  shall be.”


                                            ■'I  give  ye  thanks— but,  Captain,  maybe
                                                 Y e  will  hae a  kindly  care
                                              For the friendless,  lonely  laddie, '
                                                                 ’
                                                                        j
                                                 When  the battle  wnrk  iii  ftair ;
                                              For  Sant lie's eye  been  good  arid  gentle,
                                                 And  I've  nothing  else to  love,
                                              Nothing— but the grave  ell  yonder,
                                                 And  the  Father  up  above.”


                                              Then,  her  rough  hand  gently  laying
                                                 On the  cur^-encircled  head,
                                              She bhissed  her  boyr  The  tent  was  silent,
                                                 Ant:  not another word  was  said ;

                                              For  Captain  Graham  was  sadly  dreaming
                                                 Of  a ben is on,  long  ago,
                                              IS readied  above  his  head,  then  golden,
                                                 Rending  now,  and  touched  with  snow.


                                              Good-bye,  SandieT       “ Good-bye, mother,
                                                 111  eoine  back  some  summer  clay ;
                                              Don't you  fear— they  don't shoot  drummers
                                                 Ever.    Do  they,  Captain  Gra—  — ?
                                              (>ne  more  kiss— watch  for  me,  mother,
                                                 You  will  know  ftis  surely  me
                                              Coming home— for  you  will hear  me
                                                 Playing  soft  the  reveille.”
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