Public ledger. [volume] (Memphis, Tenn.) 1865-1893, 1868-05-02
The Last Tribute OF Love and
Honor 10 General Preston
Smith and Colonel JEFF
l frey Forrest.
The Ceremonies OF the Occa-
: sion, Orations. Poems
and Music.
ADay never 10 be Forgotten
Full and Graphic Report.

"Bring. flowers. pale flowers. Ger the bier to
A crown for the brow Of the noble dead.
Fer, this thro' Its leaves has the white rose
For this in the woods was the violet nursed;
| Tho they smile in vain for whatonce was ours.
They are Loye's last gift. Bring howcfs. pale
1owersi" gtf.t.n ndr r..
Another swih-wingej year has flown
since, Of our gallant armies, that most
gallant few who to the last stood and
we're left to stand by the banner and the
cause, perhaps too fondly held as the
emblem and the promise of ell VIC hoped
and all we sought, to an enemy deemed
magnanimous and just, surrendered
everything but their birthright of honor
and their heritage of fame. Another and
third twelve-month Of peace-peace but
in name, and not the peace of love and
harmony and OBSERVATION-DISCLOSURES passed,
and once again this anniversary
day, with its hallowed associations and
fower-fraught memories recurs.
And again to day how willingly, and
yet how sadly, we reverse the sentiments
and affections of our crushed spirits and
our bruised hearts-turn from the bitter
present of our destiny to the fond past of
our hopes--from the walks of those who
live to hate and ipjure us to the graves
Of those who died that it might not be
so. To-day how more than sacred be-
comes the resting place of those who fell
in struggling to avert a calamity which
they, asleep beneath the green sod of our
sunny land, with the impulse of bravery
and generosity, twin-born in their now
stilled soldier hearts, could not look
forward to. If, indeed, this our offering
day was ever consecrated; twice-aye,
thrice, be it consecrated now. To-day
the bitterness of the hatreds of our con-
querors, that should have died, strength
ems the pure and tender loves of our de-
tenders, which now can never die. To
the Southland richer boon of flowers
let the Spring bring forth; more tenderly
than ever let the feet of our maidens
press the sacred paths between the hill
locks of our sleeping soldiery let nature
and let us repledge our loves and memo
ries Of them On every sunny hillside,
in every vale, lot garland Of spring time
blossoms tell how that we never can for
get them. ora
But already have the silent ranks of
those who sleep within the sacred pre-
cincts of our own peaceful Elmweod re-
ceived their annual tribute of the love
and honor that we bear them. Delicate
hands have strewed their serried mounds
with the bright and beautiful blossoms Of
spring, whose petal lips and fragrant
breath breathe only the pure language of
love. The violet and the rose, the tulip
and the windhower, the narcissi and the
lily, the hyacinth and the jessamine, and
a thousand blooms, hameless as the
dead that reposo beneath them,
have gemmed the emerald sheen above
each hero's dust that reposes under
the perennial verdure of Elmwood.
There is not among the ranks Of our
soldier-dead the humblest, who has not
been garlanded to-day-who has not,
with buds and flowers from oarth's dark
Fresh from the dreams of their wintry rest, "
been crowned with wreath brighter
and more unfading in memory than ever
pressed the brow Of victor in the days OF
chivalry.