The Scranton tribune. [volume] (Scranton, Pa.) 1891-1910, 1894-05-30
MAY 30.

Hang out the flag, the dear old flag, upon the
outer wall.
l hear again the flies shrill notes, the bugle's
mellow call.
Once more the veterans fill the ranks, in files
not serrled, though,
AS when they marched into the south some
thirty years ago..
l hear the sound of marching men. the tramp
of myriad feet,
The steady footballs echo all along the paved
street.
They follow where "Old Glory" leads, with
solemn step and slow,
Not light and springy as they marched some
thirty years ago.
Year after year they fewer grow, their ranks
are thinning fast,
And more graves dot the hillside slopes as
every May goes past,
And gray heads nod along the line where dark
hair used to grow
When marching down in Dixle's land some
thirty years ago.
I seem to view again the scenes when men
went marching forth;
l seem to sec again the grand uprising of the
north;
l hear again the echoing cheer, the plaudits of
the crowd,
And sec the boys march tothe front with val
liant mien end proud.
fond embrace;
l note the lovers sad goodby, the lorn wife's
tear stained face;
The children's half bewildered look so suited
to their years,
When tinsel and display so i'll seem cause for
mothers tears.
/ hear the ringing cheers for those who're
marching forth to meet
Honor and fame and victory, perchance death
or defeat.
Some went to meet a shattered life, with val
liant hearts and brave.
And some, like those who march today, were
marching toward the grave.
l seem to see again arise the clouds of sulphur.
Gus smoke;
l hear again the changing hoofs, the saber's
vigorous stroke;
1 hear the ping of mimic balls. the c%annon's
loud mouthed roar,
The clash of steel, the human yells, the fiery
hate Of war.
I sec the bloody pictures made upon a land
scape green;
I see the comrades parched lips wet from the
same %cantcen;
/ see men die for other men; 1 see the true and
brave
Form comradeship and brotherhood that lasts
beyond the grave.
1 hear again the battlecry that rang at NAL
vern Hill,
The cheer that rose at Round Top, the shout
at Charlottesville;
1 see again the sailor men sweep up through
Mobile bay;
/ see the Sights on Lookout Heights and ALA
toona's fray.
l see tho famous seaward march; l see the
bummers' foray;
/ see the mine at Petersburg burst up with col
umns CORY.
The panorama passes on, with shrek and yell
and rattle,
The p~andemonium and din and carnage of the
battle.
Now all goes calmer once again, and Johnnies
homeward march,
And flags are waved, and cheers are given, and
towns their highways arch.
Sweet peace smiles on tho land once more, but
many sad tears flow
For those who staid in Dixie's land som thirty
years ago.
The panorama's passed away the years have
sped along;
/ hear again the tramping feet, the murmur of
the throng.
'Tis not q gala day parade, nor yet a martial
show,
As when they marched to Dixie's land some
thirty years ago.
Hang out the flag, the dear old flag, upon the
outer wall
When sounds again the shrill toned fife, the
bugle's mellow call.
Once more the veterans fill the ranks and
tramp with footsteps slow
To honor dead who tramped with them some
thirty years ago.
They hide no hatred in their hearts for those
who wore the gray,
But comradeship of bygone years will bind
brave hearts for aye.
With those who struggled side by side frater-
nal love must grow
AS ranks grow thin of those who marched some
HARRY J. SHELLMAN.