Years of childhood and youth, of mirth and joy,
such as we felt before war had come to harass us; when I swam in the
Opequon, or roamed the hills, looking into bright eyes, where life was
so fresh and so young. The "dew was on the blossom" then, the flower in
the bud. Now the bloom had passed away, and the dew dried up in the hot
war-atmosphere. It was a worn and weary soldier who came back to the
scenes of his youth.
Suddenly, as I mused thus, dreaming idly under the great oak which
sheltered me, I heard a voice from Stuart's tent, sending its sonorous
music on the air. It was the great cavalier singing lustily--
"The dew is on the blossom!"
At all hours of the day you could hear that gay voice. Stuart's
headquarters were full of the most mirthful sounds and sights. The
knoll was alive with picturesque forms. The horses, tethered to the
boughs, champed their bits and pawed impatiently. The bright
saddle-blankets shone under the saddles covered with gay decorations.
Young officers with clanking sabres and rattling spurs moved to and
fro. In front of the head-quarters tent the red battle-flag caught the
sunshine in its dazzling folds.
Suddenly, a new charm is added to the picturesque scene. Maiden figures
advance over the grassy lawn; bright eyes glimmer; glossy ringlets are
lifted by the fingers of the wind; tinkling laughter is heard;--and
over all rings the wild sonorous music of the bugle!
The days pass rapidly thus.
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