SHERMAN I GLORY and honor and fame and everlasting laudation For our captains who loved not war, but fought for the life of the nation; Who knew that, in all the land, one slave meant strife, not peace; Who fought for freedom, not glory; made war that war might cease. II Glory and honor and fame; the beating of muffled drums; The wailing funeral dirge, as the flag-wrapt coffin comes. Fame and honor and glory, and joy for a noble soul; For a full and splendid life, and laureled rest at the goal. III Glory and honor and fame; the pomp that a soldier prizes; The league-long waving line as the marching falls and rises; Rumbling of caissons and guns; the clatter of horses' feet, And a million awe-struck faces far down the waiting street. IV But better than martial woe, and the pageant of civic sor row; Better than praise of to-day, or the statue we build to-morrow; Better than honor and glory, and History's iron pen, Was the thought of duty done and the love of his fellow men. EREWHILE I sang the praise of them whose lustrous names Who rose in glory, and in splendor, and in might II Honor to all, for each his honors meekly carried, All honor, for they sought alone to serve the state III Yes, while the glorious past our grateful memory craves, And while yon bright flag waves, Lincoln, Grant, Sherman, Sheridan, the peerless four, Shall live for evermore; IV Shall shine the eternal stars of stern and loyal love, All other stars above; The imperial nation they made one, at last, and free, V Ah, yes! but ne'er may we forget the praise to sound Of the brave souls that found Death in the myriad ranks, 'mid blood, and groans, and stenches Tombs in the abhorrèd trenches. 1 Chaplain William Henry Gilder, of the 40th New York Volunteers, died at Brandy Station, Virginia, in April, 1864, of smallpox caught while in attendance upon the regimental hospital. VI Comrades! To-day a tear-wet garland I would bring — But one song let me sing, For one sole hero of my heart and desolate home; VII Bring your glad flowers, your flags, for this one humble grave; For, Soldiers, he was brave! Tho' fell not he before the cannon's thunderous breath, Yet noble was his death. VIII True soldier of his country and the sacred cross He counted gain, not loss, Perils and nameless horrors of the embattled field, IX But not where 'mid wild cheers the awful battle broke, — He to heroic death went forth with soul elate; Harder his lonely fate. X There in the pest-house died he; stricken he fearless fell, Knowing that all was well; The high, mysterious Power whereof mankind has dreamed To him not distant seemed. ΧΙ Yet life to him was O, most dear, home, children, wife, But, dearer still than life, FAILURE AND SUCCESS Duty that passion of the soul which from the sod Alone lifts man to God. 163 XII So nobly past this unknown hero of the war; And heroes, near and far, Sleep now in graves like his unfamed in song or story – But theirs is more than glory! TO THE SPIRIT OF ABRAHAM LINCOLN (REUNION AT GETTYSBURG TWENTY-FIVE YEARS AFTER THE BATTLE) SHADE of our greatest, O look down to-day! Here the long, dread midsummer battle roared, Yet not as once to harry and to slay, But to strike hands, and with sublime accord And on this sacred field one patriot host FAILURE AND SUCCESS (G. C., 1888) He fails who climbs to power and place He fails not who makes truth his cause, He fails not, he who stakes his all J. R. L. ON HIS BIRTHDAY NAVIES nor armies can exalt the state; NAPOLEON A SOUL inhuman? No, but human all, Turn, dastardly, the imperial hand to tear THE WHITE CZAR'S PEOPLE PART I THE White Czar's people cry: "Thou God of the heat and the cold, Of storm and of lightning, |