Ii

'Mid heavy roses weighed with dew The chirping crickets hid; I' the honeysuckle avenue Sang the green katydid. Soft southern stars smiled through the pines. Through stately windows, draped with vines, The drifting moonlight's silver blew. She stared upon a face, now dead, A soldier calm that wore; Despair sobbed on the lips that said, "To meet no more."