Ellsworth American., 1876-07-06

Bright on the sparkling sward. this day,
The youthful summer CLEANS:
The roses In the south wind play,
The slumberous woodland dreams;
In golden light, meath clouds of fleece.
Mid bir,l-songs wild and free.
The blue Potomac flows, in peace.
Down TO the pesceful sea.
No echo from the stormy past
Alarms the placid vale;
Nor csnnon-roar, nor trumpet blast,
Nor shattered soldiers wsil.
There's nothing len to mark the strife,
The triumph, or the pain.
Where Nature TO her general life
Takes back our lives AZ .in.
Yet. in your vision. cvcrmore.
Brneath aGrighted skies.
With crash ut sound. with reck Of gore,
The msrtisl lageants rise;
Audsciou- banners reBd the air,
Dark >tsc7i> Of uaiile neigh.
And irsutic through the .ulphurou- glare
Raves on the crimson fray
~.
Not time nor chance nor change can drov
ibhi ifihhl anu
Nor pluck your Il ar Of greatness down
From glory's deaihle>s sky,
Forevormorc your fame shall bide-
Your valor tried and true;
And thSt which makes your couniry's pri
May well be- pride TO YOU,
Forever through the soldiers thought
The soldiers life return
Or where the irampled field- are fought
or where the campfire burns;
For him the pomp Of morning brings
A thrill none else can know
For him the night waves her sable wings
o'er many a Lamrless Woe.
VI.
How often. face to face with death
In stern suspense he stood.
while bird and insect held their breath
Within the ambushed wood.
Again he sees the silent hills.
With danger'- menace grim;
And darkly all the -huddering ril-
Run red with blood for him.
VII.
For him the cruel sun OF noon
Glarr~ on brisiliug plain:
For him the cold. di.dainiul moon
Lights meadows rough with slain.
There's death in every sight he sees,
In every sound he hear:
And sunset hush and evening breeze
Are sad with prisoncd tears.
VIII.
Again. worn out in midnight march.
He sinks beside The track,
Again. beneath the lonely srrh.
III. dreams M hnrna rama h.rk
In morning wind the rnscs shake
Around hi. cottage door.
And little feet Of children make
Their music on the floor
The tones that ncyermore on earth
Can bid his pulses leap.
Ring out again. In careless mirth.
Across the wales Of sleep:
Aud where. in horrent splendor. roll
The waves Of Niciry's tide,
The chosen comrades OF his soul
Are glorious at his side.
Forget. the arm may lose its might,
The tired heart beat low.
The sun from heaven blot out his light.
The west wind cease 10 blow;
But, while one spark OF life IL warm
Within this mould OF clay,
His soul will reyel In the storm
OF that tremendous day.
XI.
on mountain slope. in lonely glen,
By Fste's divine command.
The blood Of those devoted men
Has sanctified this land!
The funeral moss-bui not in grief
Waves DER their hallowed rest,
And not in grief the laurel leaf
Drops on the hero's breast.
Tears for the living. when Gods gift
The friend Of man to bel
Wastes like the shattered spar. that drift
Upon the unknown sea.
Tears for the wreck who sinks AZ last.
No deed of yalor done;
But no tears for the soul that past
When honor's fight was won.
He takes the hand Of Heavenly Fate
Who lives. and dies for truth.
For him the holy angels wait,
In realms OF endless youth.
The grass upon his grave is green
With everlasting bloom;
And love and blessing make the sheen
OF glory round his tomb,
Mourn not for them. the loved and gone!
The cause they died to save
Plants an eternal corner-stone
Upon the martyrs grave;
And. safe from all the ills we pass,
Their sleep is sweet and low,
Meath requiems ofthe murmurins grass
And dirges Of the snow.
XIV.
That sunset waits its holiest kiss
Through evenings gathering shades,
That beauty breaks the heart with bliss
The hour before il fades.
That music seems to merge with heaven
just when its echo dies,
Is Natures sacred promise given
OF lite beyond the skies.
Mourn not in life and death they teach
This thought-this truth-subllme;
There's no man free, except he resch
Beyond the verge OF time.
So beckoning up the starry slope
Tney bid our souls 10 nNe'
And flooding all the world with hope,
Have taught US TO forgive.
No soldier spurns foe!
No hate OF human kind
Can darken down the generous glow
That fires the patriot mind!
But Love shall make the yanquished stro
And Justice lift their ban
Where right no more can bend to wrong
Nor man be slsye to man.
XVIII.
So from their quiet graves they speak,
So speaks that quiet scene
Where now the violet blossoms meek.
And all the fields are green.
There wood and stream and flower ana
A pure content declare;
Ard where the voice Of war was heard
Is heard the voice Of prayer.
XIX.
Once more in perfect love. o Lord.
Our aliened hearts unite:
And clasp, across the broken sword,
The hands that used to smife!
And since beside POiomac's wave
There's nothing left but peace,
Be flIled at last the open grave,
Ard let the sorrow cease.
Sweet, from the plying northern pines,
Their loving whisper flows;
> And sweetly. where the orange shines.
The palm.t tree w0Os the rose;
All, let that tender music run
Oer all the years to be;
: And Thy great blessing make Us one