Excerpt from The Lily of the Valley; Or Margie and I: And Other PoemsAs through our Southern land they roam But Oh I wish that the War was o'er That we heard no more the cannon's roar That Peace was ours once more.Ah! Now I think I hear The sound Of those bugles clear, And the tread Of bare feet that may never Press the native soil, that now they stain With crimson drops that write, In characters Of light, Their record on each Southern plain.About the PublisherForgotten Books publishes hundreds of thousands of rare and classic books. Find more at www.forgottenbooks.comThis book is a reproduction of an important historical work. Forgotten Books uses state-of-the-art technology to digitally reconstruct the work, preserving the original format whilst repairing imperfections present in the aged copy. In rare cases, an imperfection in the original, such as a blemish or missing page, may be replicated in our edition.

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