html.skin-theme-clientpref-night @media(prefers-color-scheme:dark){html.skin-theme-clientpref-os }WATCHING on the picket lonely,
No companion with me only
My tried musket, while the stilly
Night hangs o'er me dark and chilly.
O'er me pass the dark hours slowly,
Crouching 'neath the bare shrubs lowly.
From the far reserve come ringing
Merry tones and voice of singing.
Where the bivouac fires burn brightly
Comrades' laughter echoes lightly.
But not all of mirth and gladness
Theirs alone is while chill sadness
In its sable robe enshrouds me
As this winter night o'erclouds me.
What to me that I have waited
Through the long hours danger-freighted?
Like the rose on icy mountain,
Or the bright, refreshing fountain
In the desert, comes in seeming,
As it were, in happy dreaming,
Pictured lifelike, clear and truthful,
Comes a lovely face and youthful;
And those lovéd features' gladness
Charms away my night and sadness.
And that visioned face is near me
Ever, and full oft to cheer me,
Softly framed in brown hair curling,
Smiles upon me from the swirling
Battle-cloud, or in the cheerful
Bivouac fire I see the tearful,
Saddened eyes and bosom heaving,
As when dearest friends are leaving
Death to face. With thoughts of beauty.
Is the rugged way of duty
Filled; and on me daily, nightly,
Beam those visioned features brightly.
As the white foam on the current
Of the dark and turbid torrent,
Float on memory's river cheerless
Thoughts of one—my loved one peerless.
Ne'er they leave me as they found me,
But their influence around me
Casts a spell, pure, deep and holy,
Which, as months of absence slowly
Grow to years, itself is growing,
Like the river onward flowing.
And that spell doth ever strengthen
As the leagues between us lengthen.
To my chilled heart it is warmer
Than a cordial, more than armor
Strengthens me in each endeavor
Foul temptation's bonds to sever
And with spirit still undaunted,
Though by fiend-like shadows haunted,
Onward tread the way before me,
Danger 'round and darkness o'er me.