Mower County transcript. [volume] (Lansing, Minn.) 1868-1915, 1889-01-16

soldiers hand.
God knows they thought their cause was just. we
knew our cause was right
This conflict of opinions then forced on that fevered
fight.
We have no war at issue now, and in this blessed
way,
Throw wide the portals of your hearts md welcome
in the gray.
We snapped tobacco at the front. on picket lines
before;
How shall we turn the shoulder now and close the
common door;
We might forgive to each the past. as each would
be forgiven,
And join one common circle. where the boy, look
down from heaven.
Yes sound your bugle brother man, and call the men
this wav
And if the ranks of blue be thin. and sprinked with
the gray
Twill weave the realistic in with visions of the past
And help to fill the little ranks that dwindle down
so fast:
Tho we have faced them fierce and fas. and fought
| them hand to hand.
| With ranks that cried .Columbia- while they a n
swered ''Maryland:''
Well lay the hard old grudges down, and welcome
| soldiers true.
To minge with our fading ranks to deck; the gray
| and blue.
O., sound the bugle Sound it loud. Push forth the
quiverng strain.
Til all the hosts that flood the wood and scour the
plain.
| Shall come with garlands fresh and sweet and lin
gering scent of bloom
And build their floral wealths of love- on every SOL
| ders tomb
For where the tall green southern pines in all their
! splendors sway
They pile the blossoms equal heights above the blue
| and gray.
They 60 from out their shattered homes with tears
that long are wet,
And teach that sweet forgiveness but coward
could forget.
| Soft sound the bugle brother man. and let the ban
| ners play;
! Well have to leave the "dress-paraie" to Younger
| men to-day;
This stubbing around on wooden legs. and s1rivino
for show.
Would only grieve the boys who watched our motions
| years ago.
That ''double-quick' would get us now. rheumarics
| linger here,
And every effort to comply would force a double
tear;
For not alone the soldier weeps this oppor1rne decay.
The heart that loves the soldier feels and wee ps
we'll as they.
| Ho! shoulder arms ali now ind eed. how too
| that order grieves.
Dear hearts, its hard to handle guns with limp and
empty sleeves;
And see! along the shattered line that erst was
| straight and grand.
A coat that holds an empty sleeve, arm without
hand,
| And, God, there some places where we see no
forms at all;
Close up the line! Close up the lne Sound out the
| bugle still.
Til every living comrade hears the call from lions
hill.
Yes, sound your bugle, brother man, and call the
soldiers in;
The cards cut and shuftled we'll, the game was
played to win;
The stakes were high. yes dreadful high. 1.-THE world
will understand,)
1t cost thousand lives times to sees single ha nd
There was no "imit" to the game. they never asked
'sght,"
BUT sLOOU Vue RAISE IKE Nttle men, and fought il
out with might;
They held the ''hushes," straight and clean. and
stood them out pat
We drew and caught word of kings, and bea,
them after that.
We have no war at issue now. add this is velvet NAV
And Gods impartial hand has crowned alike IN.
blue and gray;
So from the ample fields we seek we'll cru III;
sweetest flowers,
And pile the graves of theirs as deep as they shall
cover ours
So sound the bugle. sound it loud: push forth +te
quvering blast,
Ill its receedng echoes touch the valleys of the oas
Til echo makes its echo on bevond the v,ls of c,ra
And every soldier hears the sound and gathers With
us there.
Oh sound the bugle sound it loud; push forth the
Quivering strains,
Til all the hosts that flood the woods and scour the
distant plains,
Shall come with garlands fresh and sweet and lin.
gering scent of bloom,
And build their floral weaths of love on everv sol
dier's tomb;
For where the tall green southern pineslin all the,
beauty sway,
They pile the blossoms equal heights above the blue
and gray;
They go from out their shattered homes. with tears
thatlong are wet
And teach that sweet forgiveness but a coward
could forget
Soft sound the buge, brother man. and let the ban
nersplay,
Wen have to leave the dress- parade, to xounve,
men to-day;
Thissstubbng around on wooden legs and striving
for show,
Would only grieve the boys that watched our mo
tions long ago;
For not alone the soldier weeps this opportune decay
The heart that loves the soldier feels and weens a