Poem by Louisa May Alcott

* * *

"Beds to the front of them,
Beds to the right of them,
Beds to the left of them,
Nobody blundered.
Beamed at by hungry souls,
Screamed at with brimming bowls,
Steamed at by army rolls,
Buttered and sundered.
With coffee not cannon plied,
Each must be satisfied,
Whether they lived or died;
All the men wondered."

1. Our Little Ghost
2. He That Is Down Need Fear No Fall
3. Welcome, Mighty Chief, Once More
4. In the Garret
5. For Myself Alone, I Would Not Be

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