From the Baltimore Weekly sun-
from a Virginian to his wife in New York.
‘ Can't thou, in lonely hours of night, When absent from my arm and love,
Forget the sunshine, pure and bright.
That warned the hills do and the grove,
In old Virginia's land?
Can't thou forget how fondly then,
We of times wand red side by side.
And panicked the wild flowers in the g' on,
Or watched the rippling brooklet's tide,
Is old Virginia's land?
Can't thou forget the evening shade
Of the porch at our dear old home.
Or the grass green turf of the effluent glade,
Where the breech spring waters foam,
In old Virginia's land!
And can't thou not, when far away,
Midst Northern friends whose hearts are cold,
Some times permit thy heart to stray
In memory to the times of old,
In old Virginia's land !
Baltimore, Oct. 1st, 1861. J. S. B.
’
