[23750]
A COLLECTION OF
Songs and Quartette's
by
J. DAYTON.
Leader of Band 1st Conn, Artlly. and Author of many popular pieces.

No. 1 ALL QUIET ALONG THE POTOMAC
No. 2. THE DYING VOLUNTEER.
No. 3. OUR COMRADES GRAVE.
[Nos 4-12.]

"All Quiet Along the Potomac" [8 Nov 1868]
[Words by Ethyl Lynn Beers (16 May 1863;
originally with music by John Hill Hewitt]
Music by J. Dayton

Stackpole, NY [engraver]
New-York.
Published by HORACE WATERS, 481 Broadway.
Boston, O. DITSON & Co., 277 Washington St.
[191]
[COPYRIGHT
Nov 8 1868
LIBRARY]
[M 1640 
  .D]
[May 16, 1863]
[Source: civilwardigital.com]

1. All quiet along the Potomac they say,
Except now and then a stray picket,
Is shot as he walks on his heart to and fro,
By a rifleman hid in the thicket,
’Tis nothing a private or two now and then,
Will not count in the news of the battle;
Not an officer lost only one of the men,
Moaning our all alone the death rattle.

2. All quiet along the Potomac tonight,
Where the soldiers lie peacefully dreaming.
Their tents in the rays of the clear autumn morn,
Or the light of the watch fire are gleaming,
A tremulous sigh as the gentle night wind,
Thro the forest leaves softly is creeping;
While stars up above with their glittering eyes,
Keep guard for the army is sleeping.

3. There’s only the sound of the lone sentry’s tread,
As he tramps from the rock to the fountain,
And thinks of the two in the low trundle bed,
Far away in the cot on the mountain,
His musket falls slack and his face of dark and grim,
Glows gentle with memories tender;
As he utters a prayer for the children asleep,
For their mother may heaven defend her.

4. The moon seems to shine just as brightly as then,
That night the love yet unspoken,
Leap’d up to his lips when how murmured vows,
Were pledg’d to be ever unbroken,
Then drawing his sleeve roughly over his eyes,
He dashes off tears that are swelling,
And gathers his gun closer up to his side,
As if to keep down the heart swelling.

5. He passes the fountain the blastes pine tree,
The footstep is lagging and weary,
Yet onward he goes thro’ the broad belt of light,
Toward the shade of the forest so dreary,
Hark! was it the night wind that rustled the leaves,
Was it moonlight so wondrously flashing;
It looked like a rifle Ha! Mary good bye,
And the life blood is ebbing and flowing.

6. All quiet along the Potomac they say,
No sound save the rush of the river,
While soft falls the dew on the face of the dead,
The picket’s off duty for ever,
Hark! was it the night wind that rustled the leaves,
Was it moonlight so wondrously flashing;
It looked like a rifle Ha! Mary good bye,
And the life blood is ebbing and flowing.