Alexandria gazette. [volume] (Alexandria, D.C.) 1834-1974, 1873-01-08
By Request
Z
Ehe afiY0uac Of the Dead.
BY THEODORE O HARA

The Legislature of Kentucky caused the dca
that State who fell at Buena Vista to b
rought home and Inferred ut Frankfort, unde
splendid monument. Theodore o. Hara,
fitted Irish Kcntuckitn soldier and schol lar
las selected The orator and poet Of the occasion
hence the beautiful cuogy which, alone, sui
ccs IL rescue his name from oblivion. The pa
IN was written more than twenty years ago l
rs the same application to day.
The muflled drums sad roll has beat
The soldiers last tattoo;
No more on liic'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 swells upon the wind;
No troubled thought ut midnight haunts
Ofloved ones left behind;
No vision Of the morrow's strife
The warriors dream alarms;
Nor braylng horn nor screaming lie
At dawn Shall call to arms.
Their shivered swords are red with rust,
Their plumed heads are bowed;
THOR naughty banner, traled in dust,
Is now their martial shroud.
And ;lcnteGus funeral tears have washed
The red stains from each brow,
And the pround forms, by battle gashcd,
ARE free from anguish now.
The neighing troop, the flashing blade,
The bugles stirring blast,
The charge, the dreadful cunnonadc,
The din and shout are past;
Nor war; wild note nor glory's peal
Shall thrill with fierce delight
Those breasts that never more may lecl
The rapture of the light
Like the fierce Northern hurricane
That sweeps his great plateau,
Flushed with the triumph yet to gnn,
Came down the serred foo.
Who heard the thunder of the fray
Break o. or the field beneath,
Knew vel the watchword Of the dizzy
Was "Victory or death"
Long had the doubtful conflict ragged
Yer ali that stricken pain
For never Ecrccr eight had wsgcd
The vengerul blood of Spain
And still the storm of battle blew,
Still swcllcd the CORY tide;
Not long. our stout old chieftain* knew,
Such odds his strength could bIdc.
Twas in that hour his stern command
Called to Il martyrs grave
The flower o. his loved land,f
The nution's nug to save.
BIZ rivers Of their fathers gore
His fl st-born aurels grew,
And well he deemed the sons would pour
Their lives for glory, too.
Full many a northcrn's breath has swept
Ger Angostura'<t plain
And long the pi |: ing sky has swept
Above It's mouldcrcd slain.
The ravens scream, or eagles light
Or shepherds pcnsive lay,
Alone awaEeS each sudden height
1hat frowncd over that dread fray.
Sons of the Dark and Bloody Ground,z
\ c mist not slumbcr there,
Where stranger steps and tongues rr>Olln
Along the needless air;
Your own proud lands heroic soil
Shall be your filter grave
Size claims from war his riches. spoil
The ashes Of her brave.
So, meath their parent turf they rest,
Far from the cory field.
Borne TO a Spartan mothers breast,
On many bloody shield
The sunshine Of thoir native sky
Smiles sadly on them here
And kindred eyes and hearts watch hy
The heroes scpulchrc.
Rest on, cmbalmcd and saintcd dru,l,
Dear rs the blood We gave;
No ir,plou> footstcp here shall tread
The heritage of your grave;
Nor shall your glory be forgot
While fame her record keeps
Or honor points the hallowcd spot
Where yalor proudly sleeps.
Yon marble minstrels voiceless SLnuc,
In dcathcss song shall tell,
When many vanished age hath flown,
The story how We iell
Nor wreck, nor change, nor Winters hligl
Nor Times rclnorsress DOOM,
Shall dim one ray of holy light
That gilds your glorious tomb.