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Poetic Reflections
Exerpts from

Poems from the Past

by Marcia Melnyk

The following Civil War related poems, written by Theresa Stearns/Emery Rogers, wife of Hoxey C. Rogers, Second Vermont Infantry, Co. I, have recently been included in a biography of Theresa by her great-granddaughter, Marcia Melnyk, who has kindly given permission to "Vermont in the Civil War" to include them here.

Note: although included in Theresa Roger's original book of poetry, the "A fagot for the Campfire" may have been written by someone else, probably read or written for one of the regiment's reunions.


A fagot for the Campfire
(1893)

Rally to Mechanicsville
Brave old Co I
We are bound for a reunion
Welcome all the cry
Noble honored comrads as ever wore the blue
Here's a hand and hearty welcome
To one and all of you
A tear that shames not manhood
For those who died to save
Our dear old flag untarnished
Though they slep in southern graves
Their memory bright we'll cherish
Though years have passed a score
With pride we say it always,
God bless the old 6th corps.
Brave Co. I is an honor to the 2nd Vt V
Through years have thinned its roll-call
From what it used to be
Now Comrads just this favor
Of one and all I ask,
Remember our reunion, each year as time shall pass,
Let nothing keep you from it
While strength and life are thine
But rally! comrads rally! be sure to meet on time,
Just as long as there's a comrad
to answer to his name, Be sure to answer promptly
Till we all shall meet again,
Beyond the din of battle
Or cannons sullen boom
In the happy camp of honored ones
The Soldiers Heavenly home.


August 11

(probably from an wedding anniversary
as Teresa and Hoxey were married on
11 AUG 1865 in Westminster, VT.)

We are marching o'er lifes road Husband
My soldier brave and true
And many a time I'de faltered
If it hadent been for you

The future looked so dreary
And our feet had weary grown
But you bravely said Teressa
We are only marching home.

We are sure to meet our dear ones
If bravely we push on
All safe in camp and waiting
To welcome us at home.

Our path in life's been stormy
And if we are not brave
We shall prove deserters
In that camp beyond the grave.


H. C. Rogers, noble Soldier

Better days when you are older
Will return and all your life
You'll be happy without care or strife
This I pray your future'll be
Pleasant, calm as summer sea

signed "Ever True"


The Dying Volunteer

Raise me, comrad slowly - gently
Let me rest my head on you,
For the night is fast approaching,
And my brow is wet with dew.
What! you say the sun is shining?
(Oh how painful comes my breath:)
Is it then I'm dying; comrad?
Tell me comrad, is this death?

True; they said my wound was mortal;
Though I might survive the day;
But these red drops oozing - oozing;
Slowly steal my life away;
And this chilling, death-like faintness
Stealing all my being o'er;
Warns one that I soon must leave you -
Leave you to return no more!

Comrad, do you not remember
When the news like lightning flew;
With the shock of Sumpter's thunder
Woke all loyal hearts & true?
Since that day we've been together;
And our hearts have been as one,
Knit by ties of truest friendship -
Ties that ne'er might be undone.

Comrad, I have been an orphan,
And a wanderer all alone;
Death bereft me of my kindred;
E'er my tender years had flown.
And this hour of pain and anguish
I might pass unheeded through;
And on earth be soon forgotten
If it had not been for you.

Yes, you'll miss me in the battle -
Miss me when the field is won;
And you'll miss me at the camp-fire
When the weary march is done.
But be faithful to your country;
In whose holy cause I fell;
Trusting in the great Commander;
For He "doeth all things well"

Comrad, when my weary spirit
Leaves this frail & earthly shell;
Wrap me in the starry emblem
That we both have loved so well;
And in yonder grove of cypress;
Where the shadows gather deep;
There amid the solemn stillness;
Lay me down in peace to sleep.

Mark the spot that when the stranger;
Passing there with careles tread;
Peering at, perchance may murmur
Blessings on the patriot dead.
Hark! What heavenly strains of music
On my ear enraptured swell;
Angels wait to guide my spirit --
Farewell comrad fare you well

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