St. Johnsbury Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1867-1919, 1879-04-18
The Victories of Peace.

EXTRACT FROM POEM R. H. sToDDARD, READ
AT THE GRAND ARMY REUNION, AT SPRINGFIELD,
MASS.
Soldiers Brave men that gather here to-day,
Veterans Ye know what war is-none so well,
For you have faced in many fatal fray,
The stern arbitrament of shot and shell;
Have seen your comrades, brothers, as they fell,
Struck out of life, MANNED for life! Ye know,
Better than civic song like mine can tell
Red battle-felds where thousands are laid low,
The last victorious charge, the final overthrow.
Peace has her victories no less renowned
Than war, and they more lasting are and true;
With olive-leaves not laurels, they crowned,
And simple tasks and pleasures they pursue,
We owe these victories to men like you;
Strength such as yours when nations are betrayed,
Springs the fOemen-certain to subdue.
Upon the deep foundations war has laid,
Peace builds her durable home and is more dis
mayed
To you and your courageous deeds we owe
That this our dear Republic is not dead
Crushed like the COmmonwealths of long ago,
For whom in vain their sturdy children bed.
see your camps, hear your martial tread
AS you go tramping southwark! You know best
What followed as the long months slowly fled
Drawn battles-victOres that were not pressed
The thousands Carnage stamped in Earths mater
nal breast!
But this is ended-ended! What was then
Has vanished like nightmare, and more
The slaughter of our best and bravest men
Our sires, our sons, our brothers, we deplore;
For now, on firmer bases than before,
The up-builded structures of the state remain.
The winds ma hloXV thprann thp may vTnar
And batter against the pillars-but in vain;
War, baffled, beaten So will not return againl
Happy and free the farmers life, for he
Direct from Mother Earth his food receives.
She holds his bounteous heritage in fee
Brings forth for him and his the golden sheaves,
The apples glowing in the orchard leaves,
The grapes that cluster ON the southern wall,
And when the winds of autumn softly grieves,
The sweet, ripe nuts that in the forests fall.
These gifts thine, she cres-go forth, and gath
erall!
Early and late about his farm he goes,
A diligent worker with his own hard hands.
He plOws the rolling upland, and he sows,
And in waste places cleared the wooded lands.
No idle help is he who always stands
Over himself task master; his commands
Like a sagacious captains all obey
And now they hive the bees and now they toss the
hay
His farmhouse swarms with children, whom his
wife
Good, mOtherly soul-submits to- as if they
Dear, rosy romps. controlled the household life
Their only thought the joyous one TO play;
They scamper to the barn and hide away;
Make nesting places in the shady boughs;
Thair r,.L- upIsy uugs Detray
AT nightfall they drive home the lettering COWS
There needs no supper bell to call them TO the
house!
Soldiers! The peaceful victories of home
Outweigh the deadly victories of war,
No column cOnsecrates them-nO proud dome
They cost no blood-they heal without a scar.
By these the sinews of the nation are
Strengthened, not strained, but kept inviolate,
To grapple with foes at home and foes afar;
For, soldier! these preserve, perpetuate
The gories you restore-the greatness of the state