The Returned Volunteer To His Rifle by Herman Melville

Over the hearth–my father’s seat–
Repose, to patriot-memory dear,
Thou tried companion, whom at last I greet
By steepy banks of Hudson here.
How oft I told thee of this scene–
The Highlands blue–the river’s narrowing sheen.
Little at Gettysburg we thought
To find such haven; but God kept it green.
Long rest! with belt, and bayonet, and canteen.

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