A week before the battle of Bull Run, Sullivan Ballou, a major in the 2nd Rhode Island Volunteers, wrote home to his wife in Smithfield.
 July 14, 1861. Washington DC
 Dear Sarah: The indications are very strong
 That we shall move in a few days — perhaps tomorrow.
 And lest I should not be able to write you again,
 I feel impelled to write a few lines
 That may fall under your eye
 When I shall be no more …
 I have no misgivings about,
 Or lack of confidence
In the cause in which I am engaged,
 And my courage does not halt or falter.
 I know how American Civilization
 Now leans on the triumph of the Government
 And how great a debt we owe to those
 Who went before us
 Through the blood and sufferings of the Revolution.
 And I am willing — perfectly willing —
 To lay down all my joys in this life,
To help maintain this Government,
 And to pay that debt …
 Sarah, my love for you is deathless,
 It seems to bind me with mighty cables
 That nothing but Omnipotence could break;
 And yet my love of Country
 Comes over me like a strong wind
 And bears me irresistibly
 With all those chains to the battle field.
 The memories of all the blissful moments I have enjoyed with you
 Come crowding over me,
 And I feel most deeply grateful to God
 And to you
 That I have enjoyed them for so long.
 And how hard it is for me to give them up
 And burn to ashes the hopes of future years,
 When, God willing,
 We might still have lived and loved together,
And seen our boys grown up，
 To honorable manhood around us.
 If I do not return,
 My dear Sarah,
 Never forget how much I loved you,
 Nor that when my last breath escapes me on the battlefield,
 It will whisper your name.
 Forgive my many faults
 And the many pains I have caused you.
 How thoughtless,
 How foolish I have sometimes been!
 But, O Sarah!
 If the dead can come back to this earth
 And flit unseen around those they love,
 I shall always be with you;
 In the brightest day and the darkest night …
 Always, always,
 And when the soft breeze fans your cheek,
 It shall be my breath,
 When the cool air your throbbing temple,
 It shall be my spirit passing by.
 Sarah do not mourn me dead;
 Think I am gone
 And wait for me,
 For we shall meet again …
 Sullivan Ballou was killed a week later at the First Battle of Bull Run.