The Maryville times. (Maryville, Tenn.) 1884-1944, 1892-09-14
OUR DEE ENDERS.

-
place last We dnesday brought Lack
the visions Of the var days, days Of
the tented field, the emptied home,
the loud alarms, the stincd sobs, the
sad proud smile of valient love, the
|furtive tears Of hearts that break, the
roar Of frienzicd war, the soldier ly-
Ing dreamless in the trench, the wall
|pf orphans. Before the mind pass
scenes and memories that still have
bower TO chill the soul with dread,
hough sweet browed peace has cast
halo Of light and half enchantment
over horrors face and made the hid
teps seem the glorious.
As the heroes of those two grand
regiments the end and 3rd cavalry
fell into line and started down the
the street with the old bugle of Com
|, and the old honorable war scared
battle flag of Company H, the flag
my father and number of relatives
followed in the same regiment, We
could not but feel our heart swelling
withsomething ofthe emotion that must
have stirred the "boys" when they
were young, their heads were not
gray and their forms were not bent
as we see many of them today.
Our mind travelled back through
the years of peace and we could see
those brave men with blood drenched
feet and souls enfamed rushing head
long TO the fight to fling down life at
honor's high behest, or with fierce
fury hold deaths self at bay. We
could in imagination hear the roar and
din Of strife, the thunder bolts OF hell,
the Shrek Of shells, the moan of
trampled horses; see their comrades
falflike grain before the reaper, see
the Divers OF blood shed to wash away
a ~ and rehaptize nation God
designed for liberty. Those days are
dark with horror and despair, the
nights are black with anguish and dis
may, and graves unnamed are as
numberless as the stars, and desola-
ton broods on towns and field. But
wars have an end as all other things and
above the bruit Of baleful war sounds
the chant, the chant of deep voiced
freedom, and the song Of peace-kissed
victory sweeps around the world.
The dark days are over and the rem
nant troops march their sacred num-
bers home-victors! victors! victors.
In place of the blackness of those
days, in the purple dawning sleep the
wales with dew-tipped flowers peeping
fourth, the crystal tide of babbline
waters, trill of Weakening birds, the fal
faint murmur Of the drowsy kline,
making the days birth musical, anc
scents of all refreshing health ex
hale from the breast of fecund nature
the hills repose their leafy tops un
vexed, ripping fields of plenty smile
marts of trade, the forge, the shop
the many ways of toll, the'fruits of in
dustry, rewards Of brain, the gifts c
busy art, deeds of love-thus, thu
Peace writes her epic in the hearts c
men.
May this grand body of men an
all of that Army enjoy the re:
of their short pilgrimage in tn
world and at last meet in that gran
reunion around the throne Of Goo
with choir on choir ofangel trumpter:
with their tattered banners floating
the breeze, with endless ranks III
broken may the troops march VIII
gave themgelves as shields
their country in her direst neee
And may we, who remain after naugf
on earth of them remains but the
graves, bring every year our offerin
of spring flowers, with praise an
thanks in memoriam of their prou
deeds; for even when they are all
rest they will be our defenders still
Their graves will be more potent tha
an armed host to guard peace upo
our hill tops and as the corse Of Wa
lace inspired the Scottish troops an
gave them victory, so will their grav'
inspire patriotic zeal in every mob
breast.
PROHIBIT IMMIGRATION.