The Lamoille news. (Hyde Park, Vt.) 1877-1881, 1877-05-23
POETRY,
OUR DECORATION DAY POEM.

In DR.. Hollands life of Lincoln, W
find the following characteristic letter
, written by the martyred President
Wishing to add our mite to the trib
ute of honor to be paid to the nobl
dead, on decoration day, we have mad
it the subject for an attempt a
poetry.
J EXECUTIVE MANSION,
Washington, Nov. 21st, 1864.
To Mrs. Bixby, Dear Madam:
l have been shown, in the war de
partment, a statement of the Adiutan
General, Of Mass, that you are tn,
mother of five sons, who have dice
gloriously on the field of battle. | fee
how weak and fruitless must be an,
words of mine, which should attempt
to beguile you from the grief for loss
so overwhelming. But | cannot re-
frain from rendering to you the conso.
latlon that may be found in the thanks
OF the republic they died to save.
pray that our Heavenly Father NAV
assuage the anguish Of your beriev-
ment, and leave you only the cherish
ed memory of the loved and lost, and
the solemn pride that must be yours to
have laid so costly sacrifice on the
altar of Freedom.
Yours very sincerely and respect
fully, ABRAHAM LINCOLN
Twas the solemn toll of the village bell.
That tioated over the hills away
Arousing the echoes with doleful knel
And chilling the soul with mournful Law !:
AS forth from a cottage with measured
tread
A Dand OF mourners followed the dead.
Or widowed mother; twas the first-born
son
Who nobly fell in the battle won;
And whose pale, cold form his comrades
Toit's grave in view from the cottage
door.
AS the sorrowing mother turned away
FROM the open grave, one heard her say
God help me to bear it, God helm. me j
This same mother sat in her cottage lone
And thought of the dangers there then
might be
Around the four who had left their home:
Two on the field and two on the sea.
Hark! At the door, gentle knock,
'Tis an under-shepard Of the Saviour's
flock.
With heavy heart and silent prayer
He lifts his cross: Twas his duty there
To tell the fond mother-Alas! could it
That two were sleeping down under the
sea.
The good man thought he heard her say
AS he told how under the waves they lay
"God help me to bear it, God help me
pray"
o war! O war! not satisfied yet?
Are three not enough for one to lose?
Must the hopes of the mother all be met
And crushed by the sadest of all saC
news?
Seven long days in the Wilderness fight
One day advancing the next day fight.
At last it is ended and shattered and thin
The regiments gather for roll-call again.
Bixbv First Silence How sad
The face of his comrades. They loved tn
lad.
Some saw him fall with his face to th
foe
And redden the earth with his life
blood's flow.
His name was placed with the ''killed
that day
And his mother at home was heard to sa
s'God help me to bear it, God help me
pray"
Only one hope to the widow remaineth,
One out of five, he'll surely be spared
And yet not word the mother complain
eth, fa
With her country her last earthly 10y
shall be shared.
A dark cell! Libby prison 20 God whi
death!
e There he lies weak, wounded and gaspir
for breath.
9 The death damps are gathering thick {
his brow,
As with voice low and husky he said ''w
thou,
Comrade, dark" Deaths blurr.
"Your hand, comrade~ my mother, you
see her,
And tell her that as | was passing away
These were the words you last heard L
say:
m God help her to bear it, God bless her
- pray"
D Bring daffodils, roses and violets blue
~ TO deck the mounds where the brave a
st true
& Lie quietly sleeping,
No more to be greeting
With friends they once loved till