The Wichita city eagle. [volume] (Wichita, Kan.) 1872-1883, 1880-10-21
4 Nm.

The following poem was written BY Col
n. W. Lewis, and read by him 1t the col
diers' reunion: ~
Unfuri the war worn nag again
And give 1t to the welcome breeze;
With bugle blast call out the mem
Let each his trusty musket seize.
Turn loose the brazen-throated gun,
Sound loud the drum and fife,
And through our veins anew shall run
The ardor of the martial strife.
o. joyous thrill! o! patriot fret
Thatnerved US in the Fray
Inspired US in the combat DIRE
Come gil our hearts to-day!
Once more we'll hear the rebel yell,
Once more we'll charge their lines,
And through the storm Of shot and shell
That crash among the pines,
Wen raise the cry Of victory
Along our bristling ranks,
And waving columns quick to Sec
Wen charge upon their TANKS!
All now they run! the Johnnies run!
And can't they run like blxzess
Fire Yankees are no match for oae
In these skedaddling races!
Now let us view the battle ground,
And count our honored dead;
For here they lie strewn thick around
Upon the heather red.
The pale moon climbs the eastern sky,
The lonely trench gapes wide;
Their cold white forms within it lie
Dead comrades, side by side.
Then by the camp fires fitful glare,
With scrawling. trembling hand,
Wen trace the sad few words that bear
The tidings northward to the land
Where dwells the stricken mother, wife,
The sister, or the loving maid,
Whose soul seemed wrapped within the life
That now beneath the sod is laid.
Well brush away a soldiers tear,
And mail the words OF sorrow:
Then pass the night with bivouac cheer,
And longing for the morrow.
But, bark! What sound strikes on the ear
Beyond yon picket post:
It pierces through the midnight air,
And startles all the host!
Don't be alarmed! That uproar big
Presages nought portentOus-
The forage boys will bring a pig.
And empty some more Aenroosts!
Here comes the boys-Jim. Bill and Thode-
But what's become of Wisner:
9. He Jagged behind-too big y load
And the Rebs took him prisoner"
And what became Of Wisner them
For eighteen years have flown =
Go ask the Georgia prison pen,
That heard his dying groan.
Oh |. Comrades! Could the earth but speak
On which those gallant heroes fell
Along that Shiny. miry creek
At cursed Andersonville,
What tales Of horror would it tell
What deeds Of foul enOrmity-
The darkest crimes Of neither hell
Alone could show conformity!
And we are passing too;
So, while we reunite to-day
The boys who wore The blue
Well fling to those who wore the gray
No wo.ds OF bitter haze:
But loathe their cause and praise tue day
That saw IFS righteous fate.
And now the sun is setting DER
The landscape of our lives;
We're passing to that o,her shore
The last " discharge" arrives.
Our comrades, one by one, their tents.
Have pitched beyond The tide;
Their memories, rise as sweet incense,
Upon the the living side.
Then lei Us teach our children now
To love the cause we love;
To take upon themselves the VOW
And register above
That they will keep the watchfires bright |
Around our hallowed land;
And ever, in the cause Of right,
Like heroes nobly stand.
And rs our numbers siiil grow few,
S,ill let us in communion,
Keep yet alive and ever new,
The spirit Of the Union.
Then let our loud mou, ned cannons boom,
And fling the starry banner out!
And here's cheer for trcason's doom,
And here, for liberty, 4 shout.