Goldsboro weekly argus. [volume] (Goldsboro, N.C.) 1885-1909, 1895-03-21
epitaph of S~partans who fell at The.

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$50, stranger, and at Lacedaemon tell,
Twas in obedience to her laws we fell".
These men who sleep under the sod, |
once maintained by their llfe-blood. in
obedience to the call of their States,
and Obeying the command of "Duty,
that stern daughter of the voice of
God," left their peaceful homes to
strike for the faith taught hem by their
have sealed their devotion by the sac
rifce of their lives, and the feeling
which inspired them was the same
which has been so nobly expressed by
a heroic votary and martyr, of liberty
in these words, which should be en-
graved on every heart DESTROYS or
worthy of freedom; '"That l simply Of
fer my life is of simple import; but that
I offer it, crowned as it is with all the
iowery wreathes of love, of friendship
and of joy,-this is indeed a sacrifice
which can only be offered for such
prize, our country's freedOm.' Such
were our heroes who wore the gray,
and time does not dim, but adds only
lustre to their deeds.
A king once said OF a Prince struck
down:
Taller he seems in death"
And this speech holds truth for Us now
as then,
It is after death we measure men.
And as the mists of the past have rolled
away,
Our heroes who died in their battered
gray,
Grow taller and greater in all their
Till they fill our minds as they fill our
hearts;
And for those who lament there is this
relief,
That glory stands by the side of grief.
Yes, they grow taller as the years go by
And the world learns how they could
do and die.
The nation respects them. The East
and West:
The far-off slope of the Golden Coast,
The stricken South and the North agree
That tho heroes who died for you and
Each valiant man, in his own degree,
Whether he fell on the shore or sea,
Did deeds of which
This land, though rich
In histories may boast,
And the sage's book and the poets lay
Are full of the deeds of the men in gray.
No lion cleft from the rock is ours,
Such as Lucerne displays.
OoI III 10 LII UcCtI dDA
And words of reverent praise.
And the roses brought to this silent
yard
Are Red and White. Behold!
They tell how wars for a kingly crown,
In the blood of England's best writ
down,
Left Britain a story whose moral old
Is fit to be craven in text of gold:
The moral is, that when battles cease
The ramparts smile in the bloom of
peace.
The past is now like an Arctic Sea.
Where the living currents have ceased
to run,
But yer that past the fame of Lee
Shines out like the Midnight Sum-;
And that glorious orb, in its marc
sublime,
Shall gild our graves till the end OF
time.
My comrades, the grateful duty i'm
posed on me by your kindness, of speak
ing to you to-day, for u dead, is dis
charged-all inadequately, 1 am aware,
but let me assure you, that [ appreciate
highly the honor done me by my friends
of the Old North State. Many of her
brave sons were with me during the
war, and [ take pleasure IN repeating
here what | ks We often said, hat no bet
ter soldiers than they were wore the
Gray. While my theme to-day was to
do honor to the memory of our dead
comrades, another duty is mine, that oil
paying a heartfelt tribute to the living.
To say that they were worthy of the
fame won by their dead comrades does
the highest honor that could be paid to
them, and wherever the survivors may
be, let them rest assured that their
glorious deeds, their ~unflinching .cour-
age, their devoted loyalty to duty. shall
never be forgotten by myself. They
have my best wishes for their welfare
and happiness, and 1 trust that a mer
ciful God will bless then and their
State with His richest mercies.