The Banner-Democrat. [volume] (Lake Providence, East Carroll Parish, La.) 1892-current, 1895-06-22

What matters the signf
So the cup is divine,
That we fill to thee.
With sounds raised on high,
With hearts nerved to die,
Or to grasp victory.
Hand to hand, knee to knee,
With a wild Three times three,
We pledge thee, Lee r.
Can't YOU see the vast battle plain.
the long lines of knceling men;
their earnest, determined faces?
Can't YOU hear the wild cheers OF
the soldier boysp Can't you feel the
thrill of their hearts? And then, can't
YOU see Robert Lee. accepting with
gratitude in which prayers hath
larger part than exultation, this pledge.
which proved to be given in blood and
in brinep"
The broken marble shaft is a fit en-
blem of the poems. We open the book |
and enter a burial ground. Graves.
graves, graves, we see them every
where, the grave of Stonewall Jackson,
"a simple, sodded mound of earth,..
With not line above it..
With only daily, votive flowers,
To prove that any love It,
The broken flag that silently,
Each breezes visit numbers,
Alone, keeps martial watch above
The heroes dreamless slumbers."
| No name no record! Ask the watch.
| The world has heard his story
| If all its annals can unfold,
| A prouder tale of glory!
| If ever merely human life.
| Hath taught diyiner moral,
| If ever round a worthier brow,
Hath twined purer laurel,
Humanity's responsive heart;
Comedies his wonderous powers,
And pulses with tenderness,
! Almost akin 30 ours.
Nay, not to OURS; for US he poured
His life, rich oblatiou.
And on adoring souls we bear,
HIS blood of conservation r.
Close by 1t in history, is the grave
of Polk
"Bring all the trophies, which are stored
For him. at once SO great, so good.
His Bible and his well used sword,
His snowy lawn. not stained with blood,
} No Pure as when before his God,
He LAID its spotless folds aside,
Wars path OF awful duty trod.
And on his country's alter died.
,, Oh! Warrior Bishop! Church and State
D Sustain IN thee. an equal loss.
D But who would cali thee from thy weight
Q Of glory, back to bear life's cross"
The graves of Stuart. and Johnston
9 and the Ashby's, and of that Genera
Q Bee, who fell at Manassas. as well a
Q those of the countless unknown heroes
3 are remembered in these songs. Blu
9 no dirge equals in mournfulness, thu
Q cry of the South, as she stands discon
Q solate, amid the wrecks OF hel
q grandeur and the mounds of her slain
Q .My brow is bent beneath heavy rod
y NV face is wan an d white with many woes
o But will lift my poor chained hands .
: And for nv children, pray, and for my foes
J ] Beside e. the graves where thousands io~''
b 1 meeI--and, weeping. for each slaughtere'
son.
:. l turn my gaze to my own sunny sky
And pray, o Father, may Thy Will be done
Girldled with gloom, of all my brightness
And garmented with grief, kiss thy rod
" And turn my face, with tears. all wet. an
To catch one smile of pity from my God,
Around me, blight, where all before wa
bloom
And go much lost alas and nothing won
Q. Save this--that can bow on wreck an
tomb.
And weep. and weeping. pray--thy wi
be done.
And oh, tits hard, to say. but said, I'll
sweet
The words are bitter, but they hold balm
balm that heals the wounds OF my defeal
n And lulls my sorrow into holy calm,
!. 1t is the prayer Of pray ers-and bow
o Wien heard in heaven, peace and hope t
me,
u When Jesus. prayed it. did not angel
K. wings.
=, Clean, mid the darkness Of Gethsemane
- We close the volume, sweet scente
10 and rare; but the songs will not be fol
ID gotten.
is Often they will come to US IN tn
night season. when we look at the star
of the Southern Cross turning in tn
81 heaven; and we will think OF it as to
T. design of that banner under which ii
" Confederacy fought and failed.