Topic Proportions

Topic Percent
poetry and patriotism
clothing ads
accidents, particularly fires
second-hand news
entertainment and culture
death notices
articles that list people, esp. marriage notices
for hire and wanted ads
military recruitment
From the Sat., Jan. 14, 1865 issue

In the cool sweet hush of a wooded nook,
Whore the May beds sprinkle the green old sward,
And the winds, and the birds, and the limpid brook,
Murmur their dreams with a drowsy sound;
Who lies so still in the plushy moss,
With his pale check pressed on a breezy pillow,
Couched where the light and the shadows cross
Through the flickering fringes of the willow,
Who lies, alas!
So still, so chill, in the whispering grass!

A soldier chap, in the Zouave dress,
A bright-haired man, with his lips apart,
One hand thrown up o'er his frank dead face,
And the other clutching his pulseless heart,
Lies here in the shadows, cool and dim,
His musket swept by a trailing bough;
With a careless grace in his quiet limbs,
And a wound on his manly brow;
A wound, alas!
Whence the warm blood drips on the quiet grass.

The violets peer from their dusky beds,
With a tearful dew in their great pure eyes;
The lilies quiver their shining heads,
Their pale lips full of sad surprise;
And the lizard darts through the glistening fern,
And the squirrel rustles the branches hoary;
Strange birds fly out, with a cry, to bathe
Their wings in the sunset glory;
While the shadows pass
O'er the quiet face and the dewy grass.

God pity the bride who waits at home,
With her lily cheeks and her violet eyes,
Dreaming the sweet old dream of love,
While her lover is walking in Paradise;
God strengthen her heart as the days go by,
And the long dreary nights of her vigil fellow;
No bird, nor moon, nor whispering wind
May breathe the tale of the hollow;
Alas! alas!
The secret is safe with the woodland grass.