Los Angeles herald., 1890-05-31
flee is too great to maintain intact the
intapritv Of tho union

flee is too great to maintain intact the
integrity of the union.
May the recollection of the fearful
struggle through which we have passed
serve to inspire our hearts with fuller
appreciation of American valor and
arouse a just pride in the soul-stirring
feats of heroism which were exhibited
by all Americans on every field of battle.
We have learned that true courage is
the inheritance of no section, but is
genuine trait of American character.
Our loyal sons met foemen worthy of
their steel. Our misguided fellow
citizens of the south struggled for mis-
taken idea of duty.
They fought like brave men for what
they deemed to be right, and won the
admiration of their antagonists for the
sincerity of their motives and the will
ing sacrifices which they made for the
success of hopeless cause.
become sacredshrines devoted to friend
witnesses of nations penance. They
are the eternal monuments of nations
woe, garlanded with flowers of peace.
where the youth can read upon a single
page the history of the civil war.
They are the lasting tribute of CRATE
full people to the memory of their pre-
servers. They are
"The sepulchres of mighty dead,
The truest hearts that ever bled,
Who sleep in Glory's brightest bed"
Let us never forget that to us is con-
signed the liberties of mankind; that
suffering humanity is waiting in anxious
expectancy for the elimination of all it's
hopes in the permanent establishment
of free government.
Let us fully appreciate this great re-
sponsibility. Let us move forward with
solid phalanx toward this glorious con-
summation. Let us not prove false to
this worthy obligation, but firm in JUS
tice, right and law, let us transmit to
posterity an unsullied record of the
faithful execution of this sacred trust.
The Remaining Ceremonies.
The orchestra rendered some patriotic
music, and Mrs. w. E. Beeson sang the
"Star Spangled Banner" The audience
signified by loud applause that they ap-
preciated the song.
day, read the following poem, entitled,
Time on his golden rosary another year has
told,
And the camping grounds on the hillsides show
the graves grown manifold
AS our soldiers fall from the ranks of life to be
in heaven enrolled.
For Gods great regiments go on recruiting every
day,
AS the heroes of the Union on deaths rapids
drift away,
We scarcely know how fast they go till the
thirtieth of May.
But ah! we count our losses then as we stand
among the dead,
And see the multiplied mounds of earth and
hear the roster read,
The while the blossoms of May we heap above
each lowly bed.
Under the silent guard of skies they sleep
thro' the quiet nights,
Their eyes no more to see the valleys blaze with
Nor watch the flashing signals on the giddy
mountain heights.
| Stacked in the armories are their guns, their
sabres are red with rust,
And youths unheeding laughter floats and rip
pies above their dust,
Forgetful of that epoch when the nation was in
their trust
! When they stood on Freedoms battle fields in
| the mad worlds maddest war,
And died that the flag might bear no stain ncr
lose single star
| Died that no longer on limb of slave the gyve
might leave a scar.
And when today / heard the drums and the
walling bugles play,
thought of the unknown" sleeping in the
Southland far away.
| With never flower upon their graves this thir-
tieth day of May.
Their couches made where the rivers drift, or
! among the cypress trees,
Which from the bayou waters lift up their
gnarled and knotty knees
The only requiem over them the signing of the
| breeze.
And my thoughts ran on to the ones who died
in the prison pens stockade
Looking death calmly in the eyes, fearless and
! undismayed-
Now lying asleep forevermore beneath the
| pine trees shade.
And when today / heard the drums and the
wailing bugles play,
said: "No comrade shall ever stand above
their hallowed clay
And read the roster Of their names on the
thirtieth of May"
But on some greater muster-roll than the dreams
of mortals know,
Their names surely written in letters of
AS the camp-fre glowed in the valleys in the
days of long ago.
And ere we file through the narrow pass that
leads to the misty shore,
To bivouac forever:where the bugles blow no
more
Here's a toast to our men of valor already gone
before.
And when the last bronze button fades from the
garsh light of day,
And we lie on the sloping hillsdes sleeping the
years away,
May some sad voice our roster call each thir
tieth of May.
The double quartette rendered "We're
Tenting Tonight on the Old Camp
Ground" which was loudly applauded
The band then played "Home, Sweet