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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=368510" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>By The Alma River</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">WILLIE, fold your little hands; <br>Let it drop, that 'soldier' toy: <br>Look where father's picture stands,-- <br>Father, who here kissed his boy <br>Not two months since,--father kind, <br>Who this night may--Never mind <br>Mother's sob, my Willie dear, <br>Call aloud that He may hear <br>Who is God of battles, say, <br>'O, keep father safe this day <br>By the Alma river.' </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ask no more, child. Never heed <br>Either Russ, or Frank, or Turk, <br>Right of nations or of creed, <br>Chance-poised victory's bloody work: <br>Any flag i' the wind may roll <br>On thy heights, Sebastopol; <br>Willie, all to you and me <br>Is that spot, where'er it be, <br>Where he stands--no other word! <br>Stands--God sure the child's prayer heard-- <br>By the Alma river. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Willie, listen to the bells <br>Ringing through the town to-day. <br>That's for victory. Ah, no knells <br>For the many swept away,-- <br>Hundreds--thousands! Let us weep, <br>We who need not,--just to keep <br>Reason steady in my brain <br>Till the morning comes again, <br>Till the third dread morning tell <br>Who they were that fought and fell <br>By the Alma river. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Come, we'll lay us down, my child, <br>Poor the bed is, poor and hard; <br>Yet thy father, far exiled, <br>Sleeps upon the open sward, <br>Dreaming of us two at home: <br>Or beneath the starry dome <br>Digs out trenches in the dark, <br>Where he buries--Willie, mark-- <br>Where he buries those who died <br>Fighting bravely at his side <br>By the Alma river. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Willie, Willie, go to sleep, <br>God will keep us, O my boy; <br>He will make the dull hours creep <br>Faster, and send news of joy, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">When I need not shrink to meet <br>Those dread placards in the street, <br>Which for weeks will ghastly stare <br>In some eyes--Child, sy thy prayer <br>Once again; a different one: <br>Say, 'O God, Thy will be done <br>By the Alma river.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Dinah+Maria+Mulock+Craik">Dinah Maria Mulock Craik</a><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=368510" data-title="By The Alma River de Dinah Maria Mulock Craik" data-description="WILLIE, fold your little hands; 
Let it drop, that 'soldier' toy: 
Look where father's picture stands,-- 
Father, who here kissed his boy 
Not two months since,--father kind, 
Who this night may--Never mind 
Mother's sob, my Willie dear, 
Call alo..."></div>
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