ORIGINAL POETRY.

Southland Times, Issue 1128, 22 March 1869, Page 3

ORIGINAL POETRY.

THE SKTEK OF M&RCY. Far away oe'r the surging wave, Over the mariner's pea-etul grave ; Far away, 'ne.ith a burning sun A battle is fought and a victory won. There on a wile and dreary plain, thousands of brave true hearts lay slain ; In agony, wounded and dying, they lie, 'xVeath the dreadful rays of that ourning sky. In anguish they think of a happier time, Of another land and a fairer crime ; Visions of childhood and friends so dea**, Visions alas ! for no friend is near. O for the touch of a soft white hand, Ajriendlv tone in thai far off land; A geuile voice and a word of prayer, To oooth fc.ie dying and h^al their care. Their prayer is answered, a step is near, A sweet voice ialis on each longing ear ; Bravely on thr-ju^h the sickening flight A tVaii form moved, with a footstep light. With a steadfast look in her bright d irk eye, A lister of Jlercy draweth nigh ; .No black robed nun with a measured pace, But a proud fair girl with a calm sweet face. Sad are the tears which she weeps o'er the dead, Col I is hjr touch on each wild throbbing heid } And with hands lifted upwards she points to the sky, And toils the poor wounded of G-oi the most High. All through that long day, and a dark dreary night, She moved o'er their path like a sunbeam of light ; And lips that were wont, but to curse and to sw.-ar Breathed blessings upou her in a deep fervent prayer. Thus bravely she toiled without weary or pain, Though the truck was all red witii the blojd oi the Bhvn ; Though ininy a stray cannon shot reached h>-r ear, Still sue passed on uuh jo ileas, undaunted by fear. But there arose a dark morning of woe and despair, For the SUter of Mercy no longer was there ; Searching, they fouai her 'iniist heaps of the slain, Stretche i lifeless and cold on that wild dreary ■ plain. In sorrow and reverence they bore her away, And laid her down gently beneath the dark clay ; And sad was the heart of each warrior brave As they silently knolt by *hat newly made grave. In far off years in a happier land, Home hoary chief of that gallant band, Will tell the tale in a whispered strain, Of that far off grave On a foreign plain. .....,.■ inn.