112. to Ellsworth.
So young, so brave, so early called,We mourn above his laurelled bier;
His name on every heart enrolled,
To friends, and home, and country dear.
Struck by the traitor's reckless hand,
Falling without a chance to raise
His sinewy arm with flashing brand;
And in the morning of his days,
Entering upon the eternal land.
He goes his waiting God to meet,
Without a sin, without a fear;
And as he walks the golden street
Of yon fair far and wondrous sphere,
The angels all their harps will bring,
And hymn their holy welcoming.
J. W. F. --Washington Sunday Morning Chronicle.