Burlington weekly free press. [volume] (Burlington, Vt.) 1866-1928, 1879-11-28

A PIECE OF IMMORTAL ELoQrrScE.

PIECE OF IMMORTAL ELUQCESCE.
Tie past rises Lcfore me like dream.
Again we are in the great struggle iur Ma
ti0nal life We hear the sounds Of prepara-
iion-the music of the boisterOus drum-tle
silver voices of the heroic buCles. We see
thousands of asscinb!ages and hear the ap-
peals of orators we see the pale cheeks Of
women and the flushed faces OF men and
in these asscmblages We see all the dead
whose dust we have covered with flowers
We lose sight Of them no more. We were
with them WHEN they enlisted Ia the great
army Of freedom. We see them part from
those they love. Some are walking for the
last time in quiet woody places with the
maidens they adore We hear the whisper
ings and the sweet VOWS ot eternal love as
they lingeringly part forever. Others are
bending over cradles kissing babies
that are asleep. Some are receiving
the blessings of old men. Some
are parting with those who held them
and press them to their hearts again and
again and say nothing and some are talk
ing with wives, and endcavurlng with words
spoken in the old tone 10 drive from their
hearts the awful fear. We see them part
We see the wife standing i'll the door with
the babe in her arms standing in the sun
light sobbing at the turn of tie road hand
waves-she answers 10y holding high in her
loving hands the child. lie is gone, and
forever.
We see them NIL rs they march proudly
away under the Haunting iiars, keeping time
TO the wild, grand music OF war nurching
down the streets of the great cities-thrOugh
the towns and across the prIrics- down TO
the fields of glory, 10 do aud die for the
eternal right.
We 20 with them one and all. We are by
their side on all the cory fields in all the
hospitals of pain-On all the weary marches.
We are with them in rnvincs running with
blOod-in the burrows OF old hclds. We are
with them between c0nlcndng hosts unable
to move, wild with thirst, the life ebbing
slowly away among the wlthcrrd leaves.
We see thea pierced by balls and torn by
shells in the trenches, by forts, and in the
whirlwind Of the charge, where men become
iron with nerves of steel
We are with them in the prison ol hatred
and famine; but human speech can ncrcrtcli
what they endured.
We are at home when the news comes that
they are dead We see the maiden in the
shadow Of her first SORROW. We see 1000,
900 of human beings governed by the lash
we see them bound hand and foot We
hear the strokes of cruel whips; We see the
hounds tracking women. through tangled
swamps; We see the babes sold from the
breast of mothers. Cruelty unspcnkablc
Outrage infinite,
-Four millions in Chains four million souls
in letters. All the sacred relations Of wife,
mother, father and child tramplcd beneath
the brutal feet of might And all this was
done under our own beautiful banner OF the
free.
The past rises before ~. We hear the
roar and the shrek Of the bursting shell.
The broken letters fail. These heroes died.
We look Instead of slavery No see men,
and women, and children. The wand oil
progress touches the auction block, the
slave pen the whipping post and We see
homes and fire sides, and school houses and
books, and where all was want and crime,
and cruelty, and letters, We see the faces oil
the free.
These heroes are dead They died for lib
erty-ihcy died for US, They are ut rest