The Morristown gazette. [volume] (Morristown, Tenn.) 1867-1920, 1874-07-08

of the " Association of the Gradu-
ates of the U. S. Military Academy"
at West Point, New York, on the
evening of June 1lth, 1874, in the
Cadets Mess Hall, by P. T. TURNKEY,
of Jefferson county, Tennessee, a
graduate of 1916
l recount you tale,
1t is not very long,
And was writ on my heart as heard it,;
1t ne'er has been chanted
In story or song,
For only the feeling might word it.
Twas the evening of battle;
All day the shots sped, ming:
Der the field which the fOeman was win
And yonder a hillOck,
Hinged round with the dead,
Marked the spot of its fatal beginning.
A battery planted,
Begrimed DER with smoke,
FrOwned down on the pitiful scene,
And sobs from the dying
The dead stiffness broke,
Where the boom of the cannon had been.
Its guns were all silent;
Not man stood to tell,
The tale of the day that was lost;
But each stiffened corpse
On the spot where he fell,
Told, they died, every man at his post.
One last gun stood loaded;
The fuse that had called
Half a score of brave souls to their God,
Was clenched in the hand
Whose strong sinews had palled,
Ter it sped the dire missile of blood.
And now from the Teeking sward,
Bleeding and pale,
The captain mounts up to his gun;
"'Tis our last shot my braves
1t shall bear them our tale,
From the field that they dearly have won. "
But sharp from the thicket,
A horseman sprang forth,
Dismounted, and called the surrender ~
"This land, thou aggressor,
Is the land of my birth, =
And am its faithful defender. y ..,...sS
g Your sword, dying man;
Quick, down on your knee, given
For the grace you that ne'er would have
A soldier strikes not
At the wounded like thee,
Quick shrive you, and HE you to heaven. "
They stood face to face T 81 Tee&
And the gaze eye to eye, e y
Was a gaze of hate and defiance
Demand of the coward to yield
My reply;
And this trusty sword-my reliance.
"Each soldier that lies
On this gore covered sod,
Shall give nerve to my arm as WELD it !;
And not till this spirit
Goes up to- its God, 80
Shall living man say that / yield it.
" / fight for the right,
And my quarrel is just,s -.e--g.7.
'Tis Dly country, when war is upon her
The sword that hold
Has never seen rust, i es
And shall it now suffer dishOnor.
't But first tell thy name
And thy place, vaunting foe;
'Tis no quaking fear that demands it,
But twill strengthen my arm, SIS. rs.
That my spirit shall know,
What heel spurns this dust as leave it. ]"
That proud foeman's brow,
Great rolling drops lave;
The grim eyes with tears grew mellow,
For brayery's eye,
Knows the eye of the brave,
And respects in his foeman, fellow.
Z" I come from the banks of the Hudson,
Brave man,
From a mother who ne 'er taught me hate :;
And tear glinted down
On the ervice-browned hand,
As it reached to it's foe for a mate.
a8
" From the bank of the Hudson,
came, long ago
That sweet mother bade ME not tarry,
To stand for the right,
Yet a brother to know,
AS the heart of a brother to carry
They gazed face tof face,
But proud hate
Had been drowned inlove for the mother,
And down by the dying man,
Tenderly sat,
The officer, soldier and brother.
Close under the dying, g
Meath the black smoking tide,
He dug up the earth-wet with blood,
And laid his own sword, ( "
With his foes by its side,
And covered them DER with the sod.
My story is ended
If moral it read,
He's repaid, who wept blood toindite it;
And my humble hand
Has more than its need,
That nothing essays, but to write it.
To those who are present
A cordial good. cheer;
To the absent, a hearty God speed him
For the dead (sghatever his creedl,
Here's q tear
A friend e. the. soldier rnrll0 needs him.