Warning, have a box of Kleenex handy for this one.  While this is a poem, Hank and I discovered it can be sung to Just Before the Battle Mother. :-)

April 28, 1864

"For the Gallipolis Journal.

Prisoner's Dream of Home.

Darling mother, could'st thou see me,
Stretching forth my hands in vain,
Clasping them to grasp a shadow,
Kindly calling on thy name.

Could'st thou hear me dearest mother,
As I lay me down to rest,
Praying to our God, my mother,
That you might be ever blest.

And I hear thee pleading, mother,
Hear thy voice in accents mild,
Asking humbly of 'our Father,'
To protect your darling child.

And I see thee smiling sweetly,--
Feel your kiss upon my brow,
Hear your softly murmured blessing,
Ever feel your presence now.

Well, I know your thoughts, dear mother,
They are of your lonely one,
And your loving spirit ever
Hovers round your prisoner son.

Could I rest my head, dear mother,
On your gentle breast to-night,
Sleep would be so sweet, my mother,
And my dreams would be so bright.

Could I feel the soothing presence
Of your hand upon my brow,
Slumbers soft would woo, dear mother,
All the care that's on me now.

Let your spirit, gentle mother,
Hover o'er my couch to-night,
And with whispers soft, dear mother,
Greet me with the morning light.

May the time soon come, my mother,
When all prisoners shall be free,
Then dear mother, then I hasten--
Hasten home to love and thee.

I was sad and weary mother,
But the loving thoughts of thee
Has calmed my spirit gentle, mother,
As I dreamed, of home and thee.

New slumbers soft are stealing, mother
O'er me as I muse alone,
And soon my eyes will close, mother,
Thinking dreaming of my home.

Now since visions sweet, dear mother,
Lull me till my heart is light,
I will pray for you, dear mother,
And whisper softly a good night.

H.C.C."

Submitted by Linda Trent
lindatrent@zoomnet.net