An Old Letter

 An Old Letter by Sprague

'Twas only a faded letter
And written with gentle pen
That I found in the dusty garret
Which I hastily rummaged in.

A letter old and yellow
Still holding a sweet perfume
Which stole from its musty pages
Pervading the dingy room.

And drawing forth the papers
Rescanning the scented page,
I traced the tiny letters
All weak and dim with age.

The spots where tears had fallen
Upon its pages fair
Were mingled with the crimson,
Of bloody smirches there.

I thought of my early manhood,
When off with the Boys in Blue
I tried as a gallant soldier,
A soldier's task to do.

I thought of the awful trenches,
I thought of the bloody night
When the letter came to cheer me
Through the thickest of the fight.

And how as I gleaned its message,
The anxious tear drops slipped,
And how from my wounded forehead
The drops of crimson dripped.

How my poor weak heart grew stronger
When I read by the lantern's glare
That a heart in the dear old homestead
Was praying my safety there.