Staunton spectator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1849-1896, 1866-09-11

TtLLeH on LNS FIO7UC OUeTUtyS OF JflS l/UOteS 0
the Vattey Of Virginia,
BY REV. H. wETZEL.
While Time with steady, pond rous tread,
Moves onward in its whelming sweep,
1t filings shades silent on the dead,
And hides the places where they sleep.
But Mem'ry, with supernal might,
Plucks from Oblivion's s murky waves,
TIL ry of those who fell in fight,
And sunk in Freedom Soldiers graves.
What though no nation urge the claim
To deeds of valor by your arms?
High on the scroll of Hon'r and Fame,
Your fame admiring thousands charms
What though the cause you loved is lost?
What though you fought and died in vain
You rest, and we, at any cost,
Though crushed, chant requims to our slain
While angel forms bend round your graves
And fairy hands Loves tokens bring,
Ten thousand sighs in heavlng waves,
Their one grand dirge still onward wing
Unconscious of the how ring tread,
Around your silent resting place,
You re mourned as mighty champions dead
By fairest virgins of our race.
Your graves they take in holiest charge,
Bedeck with wreaths from Natures store,
With walls and pales their task enlarge,
Auu our SId1u CdISci 10 " Ci.
While widows mourn and sisters sigh,
And orphans weep their sad'ning state,
And parents bend with fearful eye,
In verse our tribute we relate.
From you, your laurels none shall tear,
Who tor us wars dread horrors bore,
Till Gabriel lift his hand and swear,
That rolling time shall be no more.
No, though oppressions baleful pow'r
O'erride our rights and spurn our claims,
Though tyrant madness rule the hour,
Well rear mausoleums to your names.
Well crowd around your honor'd graves,
Hurl back each foul impugning thrust;
If you they sweep, they must be waves,
That sweep us and our patriot trust.
How fierce the strife and stunning blows,
How well your part ye acted there,
Each sanguined field of battle shows,
And dares with Marathon compare.
How like Thermopyle we know,
Your CORY fields of classic fame
Will down to future ages show,
Ye've we'll deserved the patriots name.
Your broken armor, too, we know,
And desOlated homes will tell,
What we had nerve to undergo,
Before your cause of Freedom fell.
These and ten thousand val rous deeds
w e III CHERISH, anu VIII proudly OWL
Though now no more our champion leads,
A Jackson or an Ashby known.
While silence rides in awful sway,
Where once our voice in potence rolled,
Crushed Liberty, in mournful lay,
Will with your shades communion hold
The moaning winds, the bowling gale,
The murm' ring brook, the roaring waves,
In funeral song shall never fail,
But e'er chant requi' ms round your graves
Sleep on ye silent, mighty dead
In whisperings soft we II oft relate
The dispensation dark that led
To your and our disastrous fate.
Yes let me near approach your shrine,
Among your number there is one,
/ know he still regards as mine
Himself, my son, my only son.
And when lifes tolls and cares are DER,
And flesh sinks down to fellow clay,
From earth to your abode Pll soar,
Well live in one eternal day.
Till then, Virginia's soil I'll tread,
Still hoping that Jehovah's hand,
Which Israers seed from Babel led
Will raise again our fallen land.
For Truth and Right though overborne,
Must rise in their supernal might,
And pow'r be from usurpers torn,
And cursed tyrants put to flight
June 18th, 1866.