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The sunshine of the country, to the eyes That looked so seldom on them. She would sit Long after service on a grave, and watch The cattle as they grazed, the yellow corn, The lane where yet her home might be; and then Return with lightened heart to her dull street, Refreshed with hope and pleasant memories,— Listen with anxious ear to the conch shell, Wherein they say the rolling of the sea Is heard distinct, pray for her absent child, Bless him, then dream of him....

A shout awoke the sleeping town, the night Rang with the fleet's return and victory! Men that were slumbering quietly, rose up And joined the shot; the windows gleamed with lights,