... the brave that day With his colors grasped as in death he lay: And Courtney-well, I only knew Not a man was left of his rebel crew” . . . . . . My home is drear and still to-night, Where Shenandoah murmuring flows; The Blue Ridge towers in the pale moonlight, And balmily the south wind blows; But my fire burns dim, while athwart the wall Black as the pines the shadows fall; And the only fr...