The Manchester Journal

"I've kissed him, and let him go."

The following touching poem, which we copy from the Springfield, (Mass.) Republican, is in reply to the beautiful poem entitled,
"Kiss me, mother, and let me go"

He's my only boy, and this is my plea
Perhaps it is foolish and weak,
But mothers, I'm sure, will have pity on me,
And excuse what I feel when I speak.
The light of my bosom's tears fall like rains,
Is it wonder I shrink from the blow?
That my heart is bruised by its weight of pains
But I've kissed him, and let him go.

There are some, I know, who feel a strange pride
In giving their country their all.
Who count it a glory that boys from their side
In the strife are ready to fall.
But I, sitting here, have no pride in my heart
(God forgive me that this should be so!)
For the boy that I love the tears will start,
Yet I've kissed him and let him go.

Last night, with soft steps, I stole to his bed
As oft in his childhood I'd done;
On his pillow I bowed my poor, stricken head,
Till out of the East rose the sun.
My dreams were of him; for he turned in his sleep,
And murmured "dear mother," so low!
I bit my pale lips, lest they'd cowardly speak,
"O, my darling, I can't let you go"

This morning I blessed him: I stifled my pain:
I bade him be true to his trust;
To stand by the flag till his country again
Should raise its proud head from the dust.
I knew by the light in his beautiful eyes-
By his face with true courage aglow-
He'd fight to the last. I choked back my sighs,
While I kissed him, and let him go.

But, O, sitting here this desolate day,
Still there comes no feeling of pride:
But One knows my need, and to Him will I pray,
I can trust Him whatever betide.
And if he shall fall-(O, faint heart, be still!)
I know He will soften the blow,
And I yet may feel a patriot's thrill
That I kissed him, and let him go