Bedford inquirer. [volume] (Bedford, Pa.) 1857-1884, 1869-07-23
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GETTYsBUaG.
The Dedication ode Read by Bayard
Taylor.

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4 The following is the ode read by Bayar
Taylor at the dedication Of the Soldiers MonI
ment on the battlefield of Gettysburg;
I.
/ Alterthe eyes; that looked, the lips that spak
Here, from the shadows Of impending death
Those words Of solemn breath,
What voice may fitly break
The silence, doubly halIowed, left by him
We can bat bow the head, with eyes grow
dim,
And, as a nations litany, repeat
The phrase his mertrydon hath made com
plete.
Noble as then, but now more sadly sweet
,'Let US, the Living, rather dedicate
Ourselves to the unfinished work which the.
Thus far advanced so nobly on its way,
And save the periled State
Let Us, upon this field where they, the bsave
Their last tull measure of devotion gave,
Highly resolve they have not died in vain =
That, under God, the nation latter birth
/ OF Freedom, and the Peoples gain
Of their own Sovereignty, shall never wan
And perish from the circle Of the earth ~
From such a perfect text, shall Song aspire
To light It's faded Ere,
And into wandering music turn
Its virtue, simple, sorrowful, aud stern?
His voice all elegies anticipated
For, whatso'er the strain,
We hear that one refrain
"We consecrate ourselves to them, the Con
secrated n'
H.
After the thunder storm our heaven is blue
Far of, along the borders of the SLY,
In silver folds the clouds of battle lie,
With soft, eonsoling sunlight shining through
And round the sweeping circle of your hills
The crashing caHnon-thrilIs
Have faded from the memory of the air;
And simmer Pours from unexhausted foun
tains
Her bliss on yonder mountains
The camps are tenantIess, the breastworkt
bare:
Earth keeps no stain where hero blood was
poured:
The hornets, humming or their wings oflead
Have ceased to sting, their angry swarms are
dead,
And harmless in It's scabbard. rusts the swordl
III.
Oh, not TIL now-oh, now we dare, at last,
To give our heroes fitting conservation
Not till the soreness of the strife is past,
And Peace hath comforted the weary nation
So long her sad indignant spirit held
One keen regret, one throb of pain anquelled,
So long the land about her feet was waste,
The ashes of the burning lay upon her,
We stood beside their graves with brcws
abased,
Waiting the poorer mood to do them honor
They, through the flames Of this dread holo-
canst,
The patriot wrath, the soldiers ardor, lost:
They sit above Us and above our passion,
Disparaged even by our t1raa tears
Beholding truth our race, perchance, may
fashion
In the slow judgment of the creeping years,
We saw the still reproof upon their faces;
We heard them whisper from the shining
spaces:
To-day ye griere; come not to us with sor.
row.
Wait for the glad, the recouciled To morrow
Your grief but clouds the ether where we
dwell.
Your anger keeps your souls and ours apart
But come with peace and pardon, all is we'll
And come with love, we touch you, heart tc
hearth
Immortal Brothers, we have heard
Our lips declare the reconciling word:
For Battle taught, that set US face to face,
The stubborn temper Of the race,
Aud both, from fields no longer alien, come,
To grander action equally invited, -
MarshaIled by learuing's trump, by Labor'i
drum,
Ia strife that purifes and makes united
We force to build the powers that would de-
'stroy;
The muscles, hardened by the sabre's grasp
Now give our hands 6rmer clasp;
We bring not grief to you, but solemn Joy!
And, feeling you so near,
Look forward with your eyes, diyinely clear,
To some subIimely perfect, sacred year,
When sons and fathers whom ye overcame
Forget in mutual pride the partial blame,
And join with US, to set the Gnal crown
Upon your dear renown,-
TLo D,o~1o-- Trrs..- L -.-t
And yet, ye Dead and yet
Our clouded natures cling to one regret;
We are not all resigned
To yield, with even mind,
Our scarcely-risen stars, that here antimely
set
We needs must think of History that waits
For lines that live but IN their proud begin
ming
Arrested promises and cheated fates-
Youth boundless venture and lis single win.
ming,
We see the ghosts of deeds they might have
done,
The phantom homes that beaconed their en-
deavor;
The seeds Of countless lives, in thems begun,
That might have multiplied for us foreyeri
We grudge the better strain Of men
That provedilself, and was extiuguished then-
The field, with strength aud hope so thickly
sown,
Wherefrom no other harvest shall be mown
For all the land within its clasping seas,
Is poorer now IN bravery aud beauty
Such wealth of manly loves and energies
Was given to teach US al the free mans sa
cred duty
VI.
Again It's they, the Dead
by whom our hearts are eomtorted.
Deep as the land blown murmurs ofthe waves
The answer cometh from thousand graves;
met 50 we are not orphaned of our fate!
rTI..,.I 8, 9aL-