A Rainy Day In Camp Anonymous Note from Judith Bronte: This poem from the American Civil War depicts the struggle within a Union soldier. When we are tired, even the best of men are tempted to give up. "Let us not be weary in well doing: for in due season we shall reap, if we faint not." ~ Galatians 6:9 ~ is a cheerless, lonesome evening When the soaking, sodden ground Will not echo to the footfall of the sentinel's dull round. God's blue star-spangled banner To-night is not unfurled, Surely He has not deserted This weary, warring world. I peer into the darkness, And the crowding fancies come; The night wind blowing northward Carries all my heart towards home. For I 'listed in this army Not exactly to my mind; But my country called for helpers, And I could not stay behind. Lo, I have had a sight of drilling, And have roughed it many ways, And Death has nearly had me,- Still I think the service pays. It's a blessed sort of feeling, Whether you live or die, To know you've helped your country, And fought right loyally. But I can't help thinking, sometimes, When a wet day's leisure comes, That I hear the old home voices Talking louder than the drums. And that far familiar faces Press in at the tent door, And the little children's footsteps Go pit-pat on the floor. I can't help thinking, sometimes, Of all the parson reads About that other soldier-life Which every true man leads. And wife, soft hearted creature, Seems a saying in my ear, "I'd rather have you in those ranks Than see you Brigadier." I call myself a brave one, But in my heart I lie; For my country and her honor I'm fiercely free to die. But when the Lord who bought me, Asks for my service here, To fight the good fight faithfully I'm skulking in the rear. And yet I know that Captain All love and care to be; He would not get impatient With a raw recruit like me. And I know He'd not forget me, When the day of peace appears, I should share with Him the victory Of all the volunteers. And it's kind of cheerful thinking Beside the dull tent fire, About that great promotion When He says "Come up higher." And though 'tis dismal rainy, Even now with thoughts of Him, Camp-life looks extra cheery, And death a deal less grim. For I seem to see Him waiting Where a gathered Heaven greets A great victorious army, Surging up the golden streets. And I hear Him read the roll-call, And my heart is all aflame When the dear "Recording Angel" Writes down my happy name. But my fire is dead white ashes, And the tent is chilling cold, And I'm playing win the battle, When I've never been enrolled. "Watch and pray, that ye enter not into temptation: the spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak." ~ Matthew 26:41 ~ .