A Mother's Prayer

Father, in the battle fray,

Shelter his dear head, I pray!

Nerve his young arm with the might

Of Justice, Liberty, and Right.

Where the red hail deadliest falls,

Where stern duty loudly calls,

Where the strife is fierce and wild,

Father! guard, oh! guard my child!

Where the foe rush swift and strong,

Madly [striking] for the wrong;

Where the clashing arms men wield,

Rings above the battle-field;

Where the stifling air is hot,

With bursting shell and whistling shot,

Father! to my boy's brave breast

Let no treacherous blade be pressed!

Father! if my woman's heart—

Frail and weak in every part—

Wanders from thy mercy-seat,

After those dear roving feet,

Let thy tender, pitying grace,

Every selfish thought erase!

If this mother-love be wrong—

Pardon, bless, and make me strong.

For when silent shades of night

Shut the bright world from my sight—

When around the cheerful fire

Gather brothers, sister, sire,

Then I miss my boy's bright face

From the old familiar place,

And my sad heart wanders back

To tented field and bivouac!

Often in my troubled sleep,

Waking, wearily, to weep—

Often dreaming he is near,

Calming every anxious fear—

Often startled by the flash

Of hostile swords that meet and clash,

Till the cannon's smoke and roar,

Hide him from my eyes once more!

Thus I dream – and hope, and pray

All the weary hours away;

But I know his cause is just,

And I centre all my trust

In thy promise: — as thy day

So shall thy strength be always!

Father! let me do thy will!

[And] bid my heart be still.

If new sorrow should befall.

If my noble boy should fall.

If the bright head I have blessed,

On the cold earth finds its rest—

Still, with all the mother's heart,

Torn, and quivering with the smart,

I yield him, 'neath Thy chastening rod,

To his dear country and his God.

Ind. Visitor

– Published in The Union Sentinel, Osceola, Iowa, Saturday, January 10, 1863, p. 1