Baron Steuben Lodge #264
5559 Lee Center-Taberg RoadLee Center, New York 13363
Stated Communications 2nd & 4th Wednesdays
Photo courtesy of R:.W:. John R. Gilbert
Spring 2000
The Fraternal Tie
Tired with the long day's marching,
A Union soldier stood
By the banks of a rushing river,
In a dim old Kansas wood.
The gnarled roots of the oak trees
Grew snaky along the ground;
The vines with their purple burden
In the giants' arms were wound.
The songs of the birds in the coverts
Came sweet to the soldier's ear;
The medley of songs in the woodland
Gushed forth without not of fear.
The sunbeams stole through the branches
Over the turbulent stream,
And gilded the snowy wave tops
That fleeted away like a dream.
But scarce had these joys impressed him,
When loud through the forest broke
The taunts and the bitter curses
That Quantrell's guerrillas spoke.
He turned; and his deadly rifle
Was poised in his supple hands;
"Ha, ha! We have trapped a Blue Back;
Empty his brains where he stands."
Sharp was the click of their pistols;
Certain the aim that they took.
Vain to contend with the ruffians;
Fierce was the hate in their look.
He glanced at the eager bloodhounds;
One hope illumined despair;
He tried them' a rebel sprang forward:
" A brother! Harm him who dare.
Pistols were dropped in an instant;
Unharmed, in the dim old wood,
By the banks of the rushing river,
The Union soldier stood.
~Author Unknown~
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