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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.

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Elmer E. Ellsworth (1)
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