But thick as white asters in Autumn, are found The tents all bestrewing the carpeted ground; The din of a camp, with its stir and its strife, Its motley and strange, multitudinous life, Floats upward along the brown slopes, till it fills The echoing hollows afar in the hills. 'Tis the twilight of Sabbath,--and sweet through the air, Swells the blast of the bugle, that summons to prayer: The signal is answered, and soon in the glen Sits Colonel Dunbar in the midst of his men. The Chaplain advances with reverent face, Where lies a felled oak, he has chosen his place; On the stump of an ash-tree the Bible he lays, And they bow on the grass, as he solemnly prays. Underneath thine open sky, Father, as we bend the knee, May we feel thy presence nigh, --Nothing 'twixt our souls and thee! We are weary,--cares and woes Lay their weight on every breast, And each heart before thee knows, That it sighs for inward rest. Thou canst lift this weight away, Thou canst bid these sighings cease; Thou canst walk these waves and say To their restless tossings--"Peace!" We are tempted;--snares abound,-- Sin its treacherous meshes weaves; And temptations strew us round, Thicker than the Autumn leaves. Midst these perils, mark our path, Thou who art 'the life, the way;' Rend each fatal wile that hath Power to lead our souls astray. Prince of Peace! we follow Thee! Plant thy banner in our sight; Let thy shadowy legions be Guards around our tents to-night." Through the aisles of the forest, far-stretching and dim As a cloister'd Cathedral, the notes of a hymn Float tenderly upward,--now soft and now clear, As if twilight had silenced its breathing to hear; Now swelling, a lofty, triumphant refrain,-- Now sobbing itself into sadness again. The Bible is opened, and stillness profound Broods over the listeners scattered around; And warning, and comfort, and blessing, and balm, Distil from the beautiful words of the Psalm. Then simply and earnestly pleading,--his face Lit up with persuasive and eloquent grace, The Chaplain pours forth, from the warmth of his heart, His words of entreaty and truth, ere they part. "I see before me valiant men, With courage high and true, Who fight as only heroes fight, And die, as heroes do. Your serried ranks have never quailed Before the battle-shock, Whose maddest fury beats and breaks Like foam against the rock. Ye've borne the deadly brunt of war, Through storm, and cold, and heat, Yet never have ye turned your backs Nor fled before defeat. Behind you lie your cheerful homes, And all of sweet or fair,-- The only remnants earth has left Of Eden-life, are there.