St. Johnsbury Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1867-1919, 1867-08-23
The BirOuac of the Dead.

he following beautiful poem was written BY Car
lara, formerly Of Kentucky, but more recently
bams, on the occasion of the removal to the cemete
frankfort OF the remains of Kentucky soldiers wi
at Buens Vista. The po m, apart from its intrins
lty, derives additional and meancholy interest fro
recent death Of lis author.
The mutfied drums sad roll has beat
The soldiers last tattoo;
No more on life's parade shall meet
That brave and fallen few.
On Fame's eternal camping ground
Their silent tents are spread,
And glory guards, with solemn round,
The bivouac of the dead
No rumor Of the foes advance
Now swe ps upon the wind,
No troubled thought, 1T midnight haunts,
Ofloved ones left behind
No vision of the morrow's st,ife
The warriors dreams alarms;
Nor brAyiag horn nor screaming hfe
AT dawn shall call to arms.
The shivered swords are red with rust,
Their plumed hesds are bowed,
Their naughty banner, trailed in dust,
lsEow their martial shroud,
And plenteous funeral teas have washed
The red stains from each brow,
And the proud forms, by battle gaehed,
Are freed from anguish now.
The neighing troop, the flashing blade,
The bugles stirring blast
The charge, the dreadful cannonadt,
The din and shout are past;
No wars wild note, no glory's pal
Shall thrill with fierce delight
Those breasts that never more may feel
The rapture. of the fight
For, like the dreadful hurricane
That sweeps the wild plateau,
Fluthed with the triumph .et to gain,
Came down the serried foe;
Who heard the tempest of the fray
Break o'er the field beneath,
Knew well the wstchwcrd of tha' day
Was "Victory or death"
Long had the doubtful conflict ragged
Acroas the .urging plain,
For neer such fight before had waged
The fiery sons Of Spain;
And still the storm of battle blew,
Still swelled the CORY tide
Not long, our stout old chitftain knew,
Such odds hi. strength could bide.
Twas i'll that hour his stern command
Called TO L martyr grave,
The flower Of his oNn beloved land,
The nation. hag u save.
by rivers Of their fathers gore
His first born laurols grew,
And well he deemed the sons would pour
Their live. for glory too.
Full many Nolthern breath h:d swept
Oer Augostura's plain,
And long the plying sky hath swept
Above her IN ,uldcriI.g slam;
The ravens scream, or eagl's light,
Or shepherds pensive lay
Alone awlkes each sullsn high,
Tint f.owucd on that dread frav.
Sons Of tie dark and bloody ground"
Ye should not slnmher there.
Where stranger stcIs and tongues resouud
Along the needless ii
Your own proud land. heroic soil
Nus; be Your filter grave;
She claim. from war her richest spoil
The ashes Of the brave
Now meath the parent tIrf they rest,
Tar from the CORY field,
Borne to ! Spartan mother Lreist
On many i bloody shi Id.
he sunshine of their native sky
Smiles sadly on them here,
And kindred cyes and hesr;. watch by
The soldiers sepulchre
Rest, embalmed and ssinted dead,
Dear As the blood ye gave.
No impious footstep here shall tread
The herbage Of your grave;
Nor shall YOUR glory be forgot
While Fame her record kecps,
our honor points the hailowei spot
Where yaior proudly sleeps.
lon faithful herad's blazOncd stone,
With mournful pride shall tell,
When many vanished age hath flown,
The story how ye fell,
Nor wreck, nor change, nor winters flight
Nor time's rcmOrseles- doom,
Shall mar one ray Of glory's light
That gids your deathe-s tomb.