Imagens da página
PDF
ePub

Flung on this page

May the glow of thy name
Back through each song
Shine with the light

Drawn from the skies
Thou birth of the dawn,

Flower of the morn,

Rose of the world!

T

THE GREAT REMEMBRANCE

AND OTHER POEMS

[graphic]

THE GREAT REMEMBRANCE

AND OTHER POEMS

PART I

THE GREAT REMEMBRANCE

Read at the Annual Reunion of the Society of the Army of the Potomac,
Faneuil Hall, Boston, June 27, 1893.

COMRADES, the circle narrows, heads grow white,
As once more by the camp-fire's flaring light
We gather and clasp hands, as we have done
These many, many years. So long ago
A part we were of all that glorious show,—
Stood, side by side, 'neath the red battle-sun,—
So long ago we breathed war's thunderous breath,
Knew the white fury of that life-in-death,

So long ago that troubled joy, it seems

The valorous pageant might resolve to splendid dreams. But no! Too deep 't is burned into the brain!

As well were lightning-scar by summer rain

Washed clean away, when stroke on blinding stroke
Hath torn the rock, and riven the blackened oak.
How oft as down these peaceful streets we pass
All vanishes save, lo! the rutted grass,

Wreckt caissons, frightened beasts, and, merciful God!
The piteous burden of the ensanguined sod!

Yet not all terror doth the memory save From war's emblazonry and open grave: In glimpses, flashing like a meteor's light,

A silent army marches through the night;

The guidons flutter in a golden valley

Where, at the noonday halt, the horsemen dally;
Or, look! a thousand tents gleam through the black;
Or, now, where quick-built camp-fires flame and crack,
From blaze to shade men stretch o'erwearied limbs,
Chant songs, or wake the hills with chorused hymns;
Or, ere the dawn makes pale the starry dark,
The fiery signals, spark on trailing spark,
Write on the silent sky their still command,

While the great army moves, drawn by a single hand.

So long ago it seems, so long ago,

Behold, our sons, grown men since those great days, —
Born since the last clear bugle ceased to blow
Its summons down the valley; since the bays
Shook with the roar of fort and answering fleet,—

Our very children look into our eyes

And find strange records, with a mute surprise;
As they some curious traveler might greet

Who kept far countries in his musing mind,
Beyond the weltering seas, the mountain-walls behind.
And yet it was this land and not another,

Where blazed war's flame and rolled the battle-cloud.
In all this land there was no home where brother,
Father, or son hurried not forth; where bowed
No broken-hearted woman when pale Death
Laid his cold finger on the loved one's breath.

Like to a drama did the scene unroll
Some dark, majestic drama of the soul,
Wherein all strove as actors, hour by hour,

Yet breathless watched the whole swift, tragic play.
Faithful did each his little part essay,

« AnteriorContinuar »