FOR DECORATION DAY BY RUPERT HUGHES I 1861-1865 But do we truly mourn our soldier dead, Or understand at all their precious fame We that were born too late to feel the flame Or you that knew them-do the long years tame II 1898-1899 And now the long, long lines of the Nation's graves Grow longer; and the venerate slopes reveal The fresh spring turf gashed thick with tombs to seal Away another army of our braves. So hang black garlands from the architraves Of all the capitols. The dying peal Of bugles wails their final Taps. So kneel And give the dead the due their virtue craves. Thank God, the olden sinew still is bred; The Lord enlarge our spirits till we feel So mix with dirges, triumph; smiles, with tears. LITTLE NAN ANONYMOUS The wide gates swung open, The music softly sounded, And loving hands were heaping the soldiers' graves with flowers; With pansies, pinks, and roses, And pure gold-hearted lilies, The fairest, sweetest blossoms that grace the springtime bowers; When down the walk came tripping A wee, bare-headed girlie, Her eyes were filled with wonder, her face was grave and sweet; Her small brown hands were crowded With dandelions yellow The gallant, merry blossoms that children love to greet. O, many smiled to see her, That dimple-cheeked wee baby, Pass by with quaint intentness, as on a mission bound; And, pausing oft an instant, Let fall from out her treasures A yellow dandelion upon each flower-strewn mound. The music died in silence, A robin ceased its singing, And in the fragrant stillness a birdlike whisper grew, So sweet, so clear and solemn, That smiles gave place to tear-drops: "Nan loves 'oo, darlin' soldier; an' here's a f'ower for 'oo." 1 A MONUMENT FOR THE SOLDIER 1 BY JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY A monument for the Soldiers! And what will ye build it of? Can ye build it of marble, or brass, or bronze, Can ye glorify it with legends As grand as their blood hath writ From the inmost shrine of this land of thine To the outermost verge of it? And the answer came: We would build it And out of our purest prayers and tears, We would build it out of the great white truths And the sculptured forms of the men in arms, And what heroic figures Can the sculptor carve in stone? Can the marble breast be made to bleed, Can the marble brow be fevered? To look their last, as the flag floats past, 66 From Green Fields and Running Brooks," 1892, BobbsMerrill Co. And the answer came: The figures And, as befitting, as pure and white Bequeath us right to guard the flight A monument for the Soldiers! And blazoned and decked and panoplied With the hearts ye build it of! And see that ye build it stately, DECORATION DAY 1 BY RICHARD WATSON GILDER She saw the bayonets flashing in the sun, The flags that proudly waved; she heard the bugles calling; She saw, the tattered banners falling About the broken staffs, as one by one The remnant of the mighty army passed; 1 1 By permission of the publishers, Houghton, Mifflin & Co. |