Memphis daily appeal. [volume] (Memphis, Tenn.) 1847-1886, 1882-01-03
For the Sunday Appeal
GRAPE ON THE NATIONS DOOR
AMANDA cAPERs NEVILLE

Lower the nations flag
Let It's proud stars and stripes give not, to-day
Its silken foldings to the wanton breeze.
With reverent hands drape in deepest Grape,
Black as the sssassin's crime the glorious ensign,
Pours its Wild waves TO where the ocean Iayes
From the palmetto to the pine, let the bells toll!
Be everywhere the busy wheel of trade.
To-day ends the dread contest-death against life
On waged the war. Every skilled weapon wrought
By the master-power of mans proud brain fought
For the issue but deaths keen blade has won;
And to-day powerless upon his bier,
Sleeps the slain chief The nations mighty heart
To its grand center, quivers as an oak
Shiyered TO atoms by the lightnings stroke.
And with uncovered brows her people stand
Meath the broad sunlight on Gods own heaven.
Nor weep we now alone
Touched by his tragic tate, from Ger the bosom
OF the broad Atlantic comes to us a low,
Sweet miseree-"A prince has fallen,
And we mourn with thee" And England's queen
Bows her crowned head. and with her spirit-arm,
Folds to her peerless heart the widowed wife,
Bathing her sweet face in tears.
free born sovereign, OF a free-born race!
His proud endowments were his country's own
Immortal heritage. Her honor lay,
In the yelled future thick for her gifted sol;
Aud, like the grand architect that he was,
He knew his strength and proudly mounted
Sublime in MS own sense nse Of Of RigG. knowing
Nor friend nor-no North, no South-holding
The nation as one common brotherhood,
Close in the safety of his sheltering arms;
Like grand comet in its pathway
IS.
From the first hour
That saw thee battle thy fledgling Pinions
In the warm breeZes of thy native land,
Thou didst not stay thy course; but on, and on,
Like the proud esgle of the mountain crag.
Thy spirit SCARED, nor poised on brooded wing
A monarch in thy eyrie-home In all
The years that have been thine for thy own fame,
And yet for those who watched thy coming
With the quick ear of love, TO whom, alone,
Thy presence was day that knew no night,
To them, wrapped in their fond idolatry,
it were blow full of all bitterness.
And for as, who with unfaltering faith,
Looked up to thee, and sought, in the p roud
fullness
OF thy power, thy guidance and thy care;
Bereft of hese and thee, we have no words
To syllable our hearts deep agony
Who, who, IN all the ages yet TO come.
Shall wear with such a kinglv grace OF mien
The drapery OF thy form; or who, like thee,
Erect mausoleum proud and firm
Alas. alas how long adown
The grand old corridors of the palace halls
Shall we list in vain to hear the watchman's cry
And for him who,
In the cursed madness of his witless brain,
Hurled thee from thy proud hight and laid thee
What OF the wor' DIS verdict? HIS hour is hsre!
Times pendulum swings, as he shall soon,
fastening the sickening tragedy. And when
The dark curtain falls where thro the broad fields
OF space shall the poor, craven thing find it
A resting ace? Earth shivering on her couch,
Shall hide her face behind he wealth of flowers,
And, with her meek hands folded prayerfully,
Plead trat no arm shall cleave her virgin breast
To lay, in shame the putrid carcass there.
And cen the Indignant demon prince himself
Shall stand with drawn sword close to the gateway
OF his outer courts, and question there,
OF the foul blight upon humanity,
His right to enter.
Empires have tottered from their crumbling base,
And crownless kings trampled meath servile feet,
Have cast Lies fetters haushtily aside.
Smiling the VIII G upon the beadman's ak.
In the mad carnage of the battle field,
And The wild roar of guns, and fash OF arms,
Heroes of deathless fame have fallen,
As fails the brave-face to the foe
Never to rise again. And yet twas left
To the immortal Garfield, to show,
In thy grand power, to an astonished world
How like Goa Christian martyr dies
Serene in his own majesty of thought,
Cnfaltering faith, like sweet child tired OF play,
Asleep among the flowers 50 waited he
The coming of the dread Destroyer
His massive brow gathered no frown, but, deep
In his dark unfathomRble eyes, llfes
Feeble fires burned with ftful glow.
His voice. tuned to the sweetest harmony,
Eel on the ke music n w6e osr ms ior
Suffering saint, the woman that he loved.
As Natures own unsullled masterpiece
His country knew him. but to her he was
The same ideal dream that. in the sweet
And joyous long ago, won from her soul
The unsullied Key; and, entering there,
Reigned its proud king. But now. oh! now, how
signs
The worn heart for an hour, once again,
Meath Mentors shades. To feel when the twi-
light came,
And the pure stars lit up the empurpled sky,
The hely hush and joy of the dear, old home.
But ali this might not be- II were not meet
Such splendid 6 fits to waste their grandeur
In secluded hauuts or I'll, alone,
The measure OF Lucretia Gartield's life.
Tt Nations voice demanded of her own
ind hare he lies. Honor at his couch. Love
On her berded knees, and Heavens eternal choir
Chanting aloud its anthem: Welcome
To the everlasting City of the Blessed.
Tine world IN tears-he with his God.
GLESwooD, September 10, 1881.
This poem was received at the time of President
Carloads DEATH and would have been published
then but il mslsid. BY special request it finds
place in the APPEAL to-day.