The Portland daily press., 1875-08-02

Regiments by H. G. Houston, late Of Co. &C." s2d
Me- and published by request Of the association.
The summer sun is shining bright DER Casco Bay,
Aud the world seems peaceful and quiet to-day;
No echo OF battle comes over the sun lighted sea,
And proudly Ger yon fort the starry flag free.
Across the bay there sounds bugle's battle call,
From Gorges or Scanned. or old Fort Preble's wall
And from the grassy ramparts idly looking down,
The black and threatening cannon silent frown
On waves that dance to the light breezes blowing,
And the ships homeward bound or to seaward going
But from their iron lips, all stern and cold and dumb,
No Jets of flame and wreathing smoke, no DEATH
bolts come.
Nosounds of war now fall upon the listening ear;
No roll Of drums, nor order given loud and clear;
No clash of steel, no charging shout, nor ringing
cheer,
Nor single shot, rafting volley's SWELL we hear.
Those weary years of war! Thank God! twas not in
vainl
That fearful time of agony and TOLL OF blood and
pain,
When we strove to keep our banners stars undim'd
and bright,
And bear 1t on to victory still through the perils of
fight.
The memories OF those weary years alone to us re-
main;
The land is now at peace; the starry banner free
from stain.
Yet those stern days, we, comrades, will not soon
forget,
But cherish all their solemn, sacred memories yet;
And now and forever in grateful remembrance keep
The names and the deeds of our brothers. who sleep
In martyrs graves. through the length of the land
From Names rocky shore to the Cuffs marshy
strand.
And while we live no sanderer's tongue shall stain
The glorious record of the suffering and pain
So nobly borne, and with such patient courage, too
By the thousands Of true heroes who wore the army
blue;''
Heroes in battles heat who fell, by the bullet or
sword,
Or slowly languished life away in the fevered ward
And they whose suffering the world scarce kens,
They who starved and died in loathsome prison pens
But since it closed, that conflict fierce and vast
The busy years Of peace have swiftly passed.
And more than ten long years have rolled away,
Since Victory crowned US, on that April day,
When, meath the famous Appomattox apple-tree,
Our gallant Grant met vanquished Lee,
And bade the Southern hosts lay down their arms,
And free the land from sound of wars alarms.
Now we, who bore some part amid the fray,
Have gathered here in peace this summer day,
With friendly conversation to recall anew
The memory of those long-past days we wore "the
blue"
When the whole broad South was field of strife,
And traitor hands striking at the Nations life
When the smoke Of cannon clouded all the Southern
skY,
And drum and bugle calls were sounding loud and
high:
When mighty wall of sorrow and Of bitter lamenta.
For the bravest fallen, went up from the heart Of the
Nation;
When Death and Life were striving face to face,
Locked close and struggling in the wrestlers stern
embrace,
And it seemed, almost, that the Right must tail,
Ana the Wrong and the False Ger the True PREVAIL
Then the sons of Maine their firm loyalty proved,
And forward to the field her gallant legons moved,
With courage as steadfast, and unshaken by ills,
As the pnetrees that stand on her beaten hills.
On every field they fought whose name is told in
story,
And If not always victors, disgrace ne'er dimmed
their glory;
From the red field Of Manassas, fom Maryes Heights
u Pleasant Hill and Esperanza the heroes of hun
dred fights,
They ne'er brought shame upon the uniform they
wore,
Nor on the emblem pine their bazoned banners bore.
And we, too, comrades, were sons of the Pine Tree
State,
And when hereafter future generations shall relate
The gallant deeds in which her troops had part,
Be sure we even then shall not be quite forgot,
For, though our fate forbade that we should share
Till late the toll and danger of the field, we did our
duty there,
And though before we donned the blue three years
war had past,
yet point with pride to the record of the last
''les blazoned on our flag tell what we did and
hear nra..2s---
Such names upon their shot torn, tattered, silken
falds--
"The Wilderness" and "Spottsylvaniap how each
holds
world OF memories, sad, at once, and glorious for
all.
And one by one, each of the other battle days we
proud recall:
Bethesda Church." "cold Harbor's" sharp and
stubborn fight;
The midnight crossing at sNorth Anna BY the burn
ing BRIDGES light;
In the hush and stiffness Of the calm and sweet June
And later, round the ted city, tho.e days of siege
and battle,
When trembled Petersburg to hear tha Federal mus
kets rattle;
Sort Help stands grim and frowning, in our mental
sight,
And again we hear the thunder of the "Weldon
Railroad" fight;
Bnt most vivid Of our recollections, whether sad or
gay,
How freshly comes the s'Mine Explosion" eleven
years ago to-day!
OF that day of strife it needs words of mine to
tell,
You who in that storm of battle stood remember it
too well!
Nor should linger longer o'er these idle rhymes,
Recalling thus the memories of those earlier times,
For feel that words Of mine can no new vigor give
To the recoections that in all hearts must live.
50, then, tear for our dead for the living cheer;
FRIENDS comrades, brothers, soldiers, welcome here!