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Dinah Maria Mulock - By The Alma River
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WILLIE, fold your little hands; 
Let it drop, that "soldier" toy: 
Look where father`s picture stands,-- 
Father, who here kissed his boy 
Not two months since,--father kind, 
Who this night may--Never mind 
Mother`s sob, my Willie dear, 
Call aloud that He may hear 
Who is God of battles, say, 
"O, keep father safe this day 
By the Alma river." 

Ask no more, child. Never heed 
Either Russ, or Frank, or Turk, 
Right of nations or of creed, 
Chance-poised victory`s bloody work: 
Any flag i` the wind may roll 
On thy heights, Sebastopol; 
Willie, all to you and me 
Is that spot, where`er it be, 
Where he stands--no other word! 
Stands--God sure the child`s prayer heard-- 
By the Alma river. 

Willie, listen to the bells 
Ringing through the town to-day. 
That`s for victory. Ah, no knells 
For the many swept away,-- 
Hundreds--thousands! Let us weep, 
We who need not,--just to keep 
Reason steady in my brain 
Till the morning comes again, 
Till the third dread morning tell 
Who they were that fought and fell 
By the Alma river. 

Come, we`ll lay us down, my child, 
Poor the bed is, poor and hard; 
Yet thy father, far exiled, 
Sleeps upon the open sward, 
Dreaming of us two at home: 
Or beneath the starry dome 
Digs out trenches in the dark, 
Where he buries--Willie, mark-- 
Where he buries those who died 
Fighting bravely at his side 
By the Alma river. 

Willie, Willie, go to sleep, 
God will keep us, O my boy; 
He will make the dull hours creep 
Faster, and send news of joy, 

When I need not shrink to meet 
Those dread placards in the street, 
Which for weeks will ghastly stare 
In some eyes--Child, sy thy prayer 
Once again; a different one: 
Say, "O God, Thy will be done 
By the Alma river."
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