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THE CAPTAIN'S FEATHER

By Samuel Minturn Peck



The dew is on the heather,

The moon is in the sky,

And the captain's waving feather

Proclaims the hour is nigh

When some upon their horses

Shall through the battle ride,

And some with bleeding corses

Must on the heather bide.



The dust is on the heather,

The moon is in the sky,

And about the captain's feather

The bolts of battle fly.

But hark! What sudden wonder

Breaks forth upon the gloom?

It is the cannon's thunder,--

It is the voice of doom.



The blood is on the heather,

The night is in the sky,

And the gallant captain's feather

Shall wave no more on high.

The grave and holy brother

To God is saying mass;

But who shall tell his mother,

And who shall tell his lass?

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