Staunton spectator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1849-1896, 1870-06-21
For the Spectator.
'.The land in which we were dreaming"
OUR DEAD.
BY Myrtle.

|.'A thousand glorious actions, that might claim
| Triumphant laurels and immortal fame,
Confused in clouds of glorious aetlOns lie,
| And troops of heroes undistinguished die"
God has been good indeed in his distribu-
| tion of beauty in nature. Here We are enclr-
cled with mountains towering in their digni-
| fed tranquility, speaking alone in their Ian
| guage of beauty, and the heart, with clouds OF
insence offered in gratitude that they are OF the
sisterhood that was made holy By the tampta-
| tion and trans g. uration; the one showing the
strength OF the strong arm of deliverance, and
the other showing the symbol Of glory that
awaits the faithful Stretching out in their
broad, expansive, verdure of spring, are plains
| dotted with hills and forests as if reaching to
| tell to other lands their beauty and wealth.
| Water laughing in the sunlight as do happy
| thoughts in beautiful soul, ripping joyously
| over moss covered rocks, reminding one of
life Of heart with living verdure sometimes
| gliding smoothly on, reaching out here and
there, widening as does the influence Of the
good, silently but surely-then again deep and
still, ALL all flowing on to the eternity of waters
as we to the eternity of souls. Shadows, gil
ding over meadows as swiftly as sorrow over a
little child heart, when it has been soothed by
its mother-sunlight, cleaning as brightly as
words of bleSsedness falling from lips Of love
to the burdened soul-spring- life, echoing mu-
sic over hill and dale, borne by breezes from
| Cuba aromatic bowers-al, all is life and joy
in nature Gan there be such thing as death
amid such beauty?
| Beautiful hopes were those we anchored up
on nation birth Tin the land where we were
dreaming SIX short years ago, and when our
faith was shipwrecked we felt there was moth
| ing left to live for. 0! it went down, down,
amid the crash Of bieeding hearts, mourning
| for :oI Uvo
| in the maimed-the wrecked in heart-in life
| in fortune; we saw then with the vain human
| eye which looked only at the present with its
utter desolatiog, we could not feel that the dy-
| ing were the best. Humanity will yearn for
| departed hopes and our hearts will ache for
one more look from the death-sealed eyes of
loved ones There is something so holy in our
thoughts of the dead, we do not minge hu-
manity's faults with immortality's perfection
they have rights inviolably their own, and bad
and cowardly is the hsare that would reach in
to the detepaeiess grave to recall aught that
would detract from its sacredness We cothe
| the dead with mantles of charity and honor,
but how much more closely do we wrap these
habiliments around the forms Of those who
died for our defenee-died for sohat they be-
| Heusd to be r1ght. Our conquerors have much
| to perpetuate in history of their dead who died
| fighting for great nations preservation, they
| tell for something, at least they conquered.. +.
| Ours is the Lost Cause" We sit down amid
our tears our dead, and hug to our aching
hearts memories made sacred because there
were beautiful dreams of what was to be-. We
awoke, found all chaos, snd poW our hearts
take up the ref ain ssWhat might have BEEN
This beautiful valley boasts of the life, the
home, ,and grave of him whom immortality bap-
tized "Stonewall Jackson its every hill.
mountain and plain has been made sacred by
! tie esno Of mis- cannons bOom-whOse villages
and towns and byways have been honored with
his veterans marches-whose peoples hearts
have glowed with Joy at his victories, and whose
eyes have wept at his defeats. Hese lived,
suffered and died the SAD, courteous, knlghtly
| Ashby. His memory IS lmmortallzed 10 our
| hearts, Tor we loved him because those we
| loved followed even to the grave Manly, hearts
groaned with inward sorrow, and woman tears
| fell thick and fast when from heart to heart
| the current passed that "Ashby is dead"
There are moments, yea, times 10 every lite
when we feel that We are powerless, when we
reach out our arms for strength to battle with
| life. and when we gather them again to our
hearts and find we have grasped phantom :
| But Ashby sleeps well-his own Shenandoah s
waters murmur his requiem-loving hands
will cover his grave with lmmortelles, and 10
that Far away land Of the SOUL" ne gathers
| his brother to his heart ana they are one;
| Here in this secluded spot, where Tactic
reigns Priestess, sleep those who followed Jack,
son and Ashby. No proud shaft rises to tell
of the score Who went out from amongst US
but this is embIazoned op the record kept by
hearts that knew them-they did their duty
Collectively we know they were band OF he
roes-;nd;y;dually We embalm their names and
memories with an that is holy Some Of these
household bands sleep where Delaware waters
silently keep watch, laving their graves with
her % misty dew, as their loved ones here soothe
their lonely hearts with tears shed for them:
We know they fell for US even there, though
thew cannot sleep where ''southron vines are
dressed yet their spirits can hover around us;
Here lies one who died in the bosom Of
home-who fell asleep calmly and quietly amid
the sobs of motherless sisters and wlteless