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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=117565" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Conscript's Farewell</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Farewell, father;—<br>I had hoped that I should be<br>In thine age a staff for thee;<br>But when years have mark'd thy brow,<br>When thy step is weak and slow,<br>When thy hair is thin and white,<br>And thine eye hath lost its light,<br>I shall never seek thy side,<br>And thy faltering footsteps guide.<br>Where my country's banners fly<br>Proudly ‘neath a distant sky,<br>To the battle forth I speed,<br>There to fight and there to bleed;<br>Not because the foeman's lance<br>Glitters in the vales of France;<br>Not because a stranger's mirth<br>Rises round my father's hearth;<br>Not at glory's trumpet call,<br>Nor in freedom's cause to fall;<br>But because ambitious power<br>Tears me from my peaceful bower.<br>Yet amidst the battle strife,<br>In the closing hours of life,<br>Think not that my heart shall quail,<br>Spirit droop, or courage fail.<br>Where the boldest deed is done,<br>Where the laurel-wreath is won,<br>Where the standard eagles fly,<br>There thy son shall proudly die;<br>Though, perhaps, no voice may tell<br>How the nameless conscript fell!<br>Thy blessing, father.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Farewell, mother;—<br>It is hard to part from thee,<br>And my tears are flowing free.<br>While around thee gloom and night<br>Quench'd religion's blessed light,<br>Still thou bad'st my lisping voice<br>In the evening hymn rejoice;<br>And my childhood's prayer was said,<br>Ere thou bless'd my pillow'd head.<br>Oh, before I leave thee now,<br>Place thy hand upon my brow,<br>And with every treasured word,<br>That my infant ears have heard,<br>Bless me, mother.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Farewell, brother;—<br>Many an hour of boyish glee,<br>I have pass'd in joy with thee;<br>If with careless act or tongue<br>I have ever done thee wrong,<br>Think upon thy brother's lot,<br>And be all his faults forgot;<br>Thou may'st dry our mother's tears,<br>Soothe our sisters’ anxious fears,<br>Be their shield, their guide, their stay<br>Throughout many a coming day;<br>Freely with thy father share<br>All his secret weight of care;<br>Be what it were mine to be,<br>Had I still remain'd with thee,<br>And love me, brother.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Farewell, sisters;—<br>Yonder is our favourite vine,<br>You must now its tendrils twine,<br>And when ‘neath its leafy bower,<br>You are met at evening hour,<br>Think how oft in by-past days,<br>There we waked the song of praise,<br>Till your beaming eyes are wet<br>With the tears of fond regret;<br>Then together fondly bend,<br>And your gentle voices blend.<br>Pray for me, sisters.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Elizabeth+Margaret+Chandler">Elizabeth Margaret Chandler</a> from <i>Poetical Works</i><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=117565" data-title="The Conscript's Farewell de Elizabeth Margaret Chandler" data-description="Farewell, father;—/I had hoped that I should be/In thine age a staff for thee;/But when years have mark'd thy brow,/When thy step is weak and slow,/When thy hair is thin and white,/And thine eye hath lost its light,/I shall never seek thy side,/..."></div>
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