"On a soldier's sock of blue"

Peterson’s Magazine

March 1865, pg. 194

Jenny Musing

by Letta C. Lord

Zephyrs softly played around her,

Kissed her lips, and brow so fair;

Sunbeams bright came slowly creeping

O’er her braids of nut-brown hair.

On a mossy seat sitting,

Dainty fingers slowly knitting

On a soldier’s sock of blue

Stitch by stitch the needle through.

By her side a purling streamlet

Murmured softly to the flowers;

And she loved to sit beside it

In the bright, sunshiny hours.

On the mossy knoll sitting,

Sat the maiden slowly knitting—

Knitting on the sock of blue,

Stitch by stitch the needle through.

Birds around her sang their carols,

But she heeded not their lay;

Heeded not their notes of music,

For her thoughts were far away.

Back and forth her needles flitting,

Slowly knitting, slowly knitting—

Knitting on the sock of blue,

Stitch by stitch the needle through.

What were thrilling notes of music?

What the rays of golden sun?

Could they call her wanderer to her?

Could they bring the absent one?

So the maid was sadly sitting

On the mossy knoll, knitting—

Knitting on the sock of blue,

Stitch by stitch the needle through.

But sweet Hope was hovering near her,

And she saw her tear-dimmed eye,

So she softly whispered to her,

“You will meet him by-and-by.”

So she hopefully was sitting

On the mossy knoll, knitting—

Knitting on the sock of blue,

Stitch by stitch the needle through.

Weaving fancies bright as sunbeams

Of the absent far away,

Sat the maid amid the flowerets,

Looking beautiful as they.

Back and forth the needles flitting,

Thoughtfully the maid was sitting,

Knitting on the sock of blue,

Stitch by stitch the needle through.

Thinking of a little cottage,

Nestling by the bonnie burn,

Dreaming of a happy future

When her soldier will return.

Thoughtfully the maid was sitting,

Slowly knitting, slowly knitting

On the soldier’s sock of blue,

Stitch by stitch the needle through.