The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1885-05-30
TO THE COMRADES or THE GRAND ARMY,
On Decoration Day, 1885.

And yet, to-day, Comrades, this day is ours
Let our souls speak to-day. From courtesy
Would fain contemn our dead; for these sad hours
While we stand with our dead, let us be free.
In us our dead yet live; be we as dead
Ashley to facile fears with words as true
AS their true deeds, lay bare what way we tread;
/ And in the death they died our faith renew.
No longer truce have we
/ With violence hiding behind false words,
Yet deeds that meet for repentance
We greet with large charity.
Not alike ours who wore the blue and gray!
/ The gray hath in eyes beauty spot
/ Bravely it marshaed it in war 8 array;
+ Not less the crimes its dubious colors blot,
Foul crimes, that stain mankind; yet boast them
|; crimes,
h Yea, are crimes as they approx d them brave
That wrought them out The deed the, slain sublimes
/ So it be true; or false, marks freeman knaye.
Man more than brave must be,
/ Not to be brave we're less than man,
But man, and wrongly brave
Were naught else but infamy
But ours the blue, my comrades! as we prove
Our souls to theirs whose shroud it provo akin,
That soul theirs. the else dead world doth
Forward and upward, purer heights to win.
Be ours their fame their mem'ry to revere;
Stanchly the cause they died for to maintain:
To free in this our land, mans soul from fear,
And speed the coming of true manhoods reign.
When they died God lost men,
i The world hath rarely seen their like,
And i'll could spare. Great fear
Such are not soon again.
And comrades, standing here to-day, if bend
Our heads in sweet remembrance more, or shame
Knoweth each heart. Too quick our handssd lend
Their disarmd 70 rec to PROSTATE fee, the flame
Of hatred redding yet his wan bronze cheek;
The sod where pour d our brothers blood yet red,
Victry won; 'twere gen'rous less than weak,
!: If lost the fruitage of that rich blood shed!
'Twere we'll no false mercy song,
Entice our souls to yield their high purpose;
For the mercy that worketh injustice
Beareth ever curse along.
Our hearts did crave vengeance on their heads
Whose wanton malice rushed to bloody Deeds
Jehovahs wisdom tbs with vengeance WEEDS
And bringeth beauteous fruits from evil seeds.
Not ours the vengeance; to pardon oursl
High We're the pride would say there lies guilt
AS high that pride would WELD Gods fercer powers
Behold how low the house our mercy built
The wicked scorneth ever
The tender-hearted that spares to strike;
And pardon too lightly given
Mocketh the unwise giver.
The, erstwhile surly scowl of treason CLOVIS
Malicious triumph where the patriot sat-
While yonder lurid midnight south sky shows
What damned deeds this high estate begat.
And CHASTITY burdens sway midst dank woods shades
Thro' tangled brakes Gods poor in terror fee
While he whose cruel mandate man dsgrades,
In our dropped flag bazons his infamy.
But surely the brth-hour dawneth,
And sorer the travail that waiteth long,
While ever after his own kind
The seed in his ripeness cometh
My comrades! on our heads shall this blood stain
Draw down the Judgment of the poor mans God?
The old-ti wrong dalled to restrain;
Have we soon forgot how sharp His rod9
Along the shores of time poor, thick piled wrecks,
The paths where danger lies right we'll Hume;
Comrades, fall in! the flame the South sky decks
Pales in the wrath shall else our pride consume
For the blood Of our brothers she'd
lis written the earth drank not in vain,
And the soul of the Goldman, Jesus
Triumphant returns from the dead.