The Washington times., 1894-06-03
IN THE SHADOW OF THE CAPITOL.

The following poem was written by Mr..
Thomas Caiver and read by him on Decora-
ton Day at Congressional cemetery:
The breath of Freedom aIls my grateful breast
AND thrills my heart with Joy, as now stand
Beneath the shadow OF her statues crest,
in thy sweet air. Columbia, my land
And as gaze. with ever-growing pride,
Upon thy Capitols transcendent dome,
Weird, spectral pageants through my visions ride
Out from thy wondrous past, my lovely home!
/ see the white wings of the caraves,
Borne hither on the bosom of the sea
That seems 10 breathe, in tireless falls and
swells
OF life as yet unborn, but soon TO be.
/ see thy welcome TO each gallant crew,
In ycrdant shores, in limpid founts and
streams,
In fruits and flowers, in skies of softest blue,
In natures beauty far beyond their dreams.
I see the patience OF the vanguard few,
In lead OF eager hosts of prisoned souls
Who writhe TO- burst the sitting confines through
That bind the tide that else 10 Eden rolls.
/ see the shadow of n savage foe
Shut out the light Of glGdness from thy face,
Till valor's arm dispels the cloud OF woe,
And summons back thy smiles of Joy and grace.
Where pure, undimmed, may fall the light Of
God,
Sail on through frowning walls of angry brine
And rest III ecstasy upon thy sod
see The manhoG trained TO daring deeds
In widest wilderness, in north and south,
Assert its stern contempt for tyrants' creeds
And win its freedom at the cannons mouth
see thy ship of state, with cleaning PROV,
Past rocks and shoals of danger proudly sail,
Through storms to where the sunny rays endow
Its wings with light as they embrace the gale.
see iAy earnest sons with nerve and brain
Uplift thy standard TO the starry skies,
Beyond the reach OF selfish. sordid staip,
To heights to which but dreams immortal rise.
see the thousands throng this sacred fame
The focus of the nations rays Of lght;
] hear the echoes that here yet remain
OF words OF grandeur and resistless might.
i see ycn lantern sway the human tide
The ebb and How of life within the street
AS nightly Luna sways the s,ritss that ride
The foGming steeds OF ocean ut her feet.
turn my gaze across Potomacs banks
To Arlington's enfowered and silvan height,
And see the spectral files, the ghostiy ranks,
Resume their marches in the skies of night
Then toward the North, where, in the leafy
glades,
The worn, spent soldier dreams his twilight
hour,
1 see dim shades of troopers draw their blades
And form beneath the battlemented tower.
Then toward the Orient. where the sloping lawn
Displays its burden TO the weeping tide,
And tender, rosy rays OF early dawn
Light up the graves of heroes who have died:
There. where the stars of legislative halls,
And planets OF the fields whence foemen fed,
see the congress of the nations dead
As opes the lovely cactus bloom of night,
That like spirit bursts its calyx fold,
They burst ths bonds of earth and rise in light
AS brilliant as the eve-stars rays ot gold:
And there the soldier and the statesman stand
And point to paths along the astral ways
The guardians of the future of the land
The apotheosis OF bygone days.
The noble hero dead How well they keep
The vigil that averts the threatened blight.
The watch and ward that saves when else might
sleep,
4 nations sentinels through dangers night
Their monuments proclaim her peerless fame;
The tablets of her glory mark their graves;
The lessons of the past live in each name
Engraven on the tombs Of fallen braves
Then bring the beauties of fair Flora's bowers
And mark their resting place with loving hand
And tears that fail, far sweeter than the flowers,
To freshen sod that holds the hero band;
And let their story live in silver song
That through the coming centuries shall ring,
And sweeter grow as cycles pass along
And teach the world the chords that angels
sing.