While in the first ward of the Quintard Hospital, Rome, Georgia, a young soldier from the Eighth Arkansas Begiment, who had been wounded at Murfreesboro', called me to his bedside. As I approached I saw that he was dying, and when I bent over him he was just able to whisper, "Tell the boys the war is ended."

"Tell the boys the war is ended,"
These were all the words he said;
"Tell the boys the war is ended,"
In an instant more was dead.

Strangely bright, serene, and cheerful
Was the smile upon his face,
While the pain, of late so fearful,
Had not left the slightest trace.

"Tell the boys the war is ended,"
And with heavenly visions bright
Thoughts of comrades loved were blended,
As his spirit took its flight.
"Tell the boys the war is ended,"
"Grant, 0 God, it may be so,"
Was the prayer which then ascended,
In a whisper deep, though low.

"Tell the boys the war is ended,"
And his warfare then was o'er,
As, by angel bands attended,
He departed from earth's shore.
Bursting shells and cannons roaring
Could not rouse him by their din;
He to better worlds was soaring,
Far from war, and pain, and sin.

"The Southern Cross."