THE PRICE OF VICTORY.

“A VICTORY!— a victory!”

Is flashed across the wires;

Speed, speed the news from State to State,

Light up the signal fires!

Let all the bells from all the towers

A joyous peal ring out;

We've gained a glorious victory,

And put the foe to rout!

A mother heard the chiming bells;

Her joy was mixed with pain.

“Pray God,” she said, “my gallant boy

Be not among the slain!”

Alas for her! that very hour

Outstretched in death he lay,

The color from his fair, young face

Had scarcely passed away.

His nerveless hand still grasped the sword.

He never more might wield,

His eyes were sealed in dreamless sleep

Upon that bloody field.

The chestnut curls his mother oft

Had stroked in fondest pride,

Neglected hung in clotted locks,

With deepest crimson dyed.

Ah! many a mother's heart shall ache,

And bleed with anguish sore,

When tidings come of him who marched

So blithely forth to war.

Oh! sad for them, the stricken down

In manhood's early dawn,

And sadder yet for loving hearts.

God comfort them that mourn!

Yes, victory has a fearful price

Our hearts may shrink to pay,

And tears will mingle with the joy

That greets a glorious day.

But he who dies in freedom's cause,

We cannot count him lost;

A battle won for truth and right

Is worth the blood it cost!

O mothers! count it something gained

That they, for whom you mourn,

Bequeath fair Freedom's heritage

To millions yet unborn;—

And better than a thousand years

Of base, ignoble breath,

A patriot's fragrant memory,

A hero's early death!