Two Brothers - Civil War

by Paul Laurence Dunbar

poet, 1872 - 1906

Here stands the house as it used to stand,
Ere the curse of strife came on the land;
It stands as it stood that fateful day,
When the two brave brothers marched away.
But the rooms are cheerless, bare, and still,
And a lone bird sings on the window-sill.

* * * * * * * * * * *

They were two brave boys and a mother's pride,
She had watched them growing, side by side,
And she prayed for both as mothers pray,
For the one in blue and the one in gray.
For they could not think alike, and so
They parted, grieving; each to go
And add his little tithe of might
To help uphold what he deemed right.
Each did the right as right he knew,
What more could saints or angels do?

* * * * * * * * * * *

And one came back, and one was left
Where fleet Death wove his crimson weft.
But both were brave; since this is true,
What matters is about the hue
Of coats they wore into the fray?
Brave hearts beat 'neath both blue and gray.