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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=37953" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Picket Guard</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">"ALL quiet along the Potomac to-night!"<br> Except here and there a stray picket<br>Is shot, as he walks on his beat, to and fro,<br> By a rifleman hid in the thicket.<br>'Tis nothing! a private or two now and then<br> Will not count in the news of a battle;<br>Not an officer lost, only one of the men<br> Moaning out, all alone, the death rattle.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">All quiet along the Potomac to-night!<br> Where the soldiers lie peacefully dreaming;<br>And their tents in the rays of the clear autumn moon,<br> And the light of their camp-fires are gleaming.<br>A tremulous sigh, as a gentle night-wind<br> Through the forest leaves slowly is creeping;<br>While the stars up above, with their glittering eyes,<br> Keep guard o'er the army sleeping.<br>There's only the sound of the lone sentry's tread<br> As he tramps from the rock to the fountain,<br>And thinks of the two on the low trundel bed,<br> Far away, in the cot on the mountain.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">His musket falls slack, his face, dark and grim,<br> Grows gentle with memories tender,<br>As he mutters a prayer for the children asleep,<br> And their mother—"may heaven defend her!"<br>The moon seems to shine forth as brightly as then—<br> That night, when the love, yet unspoken,<br>Leaped up to his lips, and when low-murmured vows<br> Were pledged to be ever unbroken.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then drawing his sleeve roughly over his eyes,<br> He dashes off tears that are welling;<br>And gathers the gun closer up to his breast<br> As if to keep down his heart's swelling.<br>He passes the fountain, the blasted pine-tree,<br> And his footstep is lagging and weary;<br>Yet onward he goes, through the broad belt of light,<br> Towards the shades of the forest so dreary.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Hark! was it the night-wind that rustled the leaves?<br> Was it the moonlight so wondrously flashing?<br>It looked like a rifle: "Ha! Mary, good-by!"<br> And his life-blood is ebbing and plashing.<br>"All quiet along the Potomac to-night!"<br> No sound save the rush of the river;<br>While soft falls the dew on the face of the dead,<br> And the picket's off duty forever!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Ethel+Lynn+Beers">Ethel Lynn Beers</a> from <i>All Quiet along the Potomac and other poems</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=37953" data-title="The Picket Guard de Ethel Lynn Beers" data-description=""ALL quiet along the Potomac to-night!"/ Except here and there a stray picket/Is shot, as he walks on his beat, to and fro,/ By a rifleman hid in the thicket./'Tis nothing! a private or two now and then/ Will not count in the news of a battle;/Not..."></div>
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