The Republican journal., 1896-06-25
Written for The Journal.
In the Cemetery at Antietam.

s
Sloping down to the valley dim,
Green-walled by the sleeping mountains
Like sentinels stern and grim.
On turret, and WALL and tower,
The ivy grew green and rank,
And wandered iii riotous beauty
Down over the western bank.
Where the sun kissed leaf and blossom,
And touched with its gold and red
The grasses that hid the streamlet
That ran like silver thread.
By the gate o'ergrown with ivy
That guarded the city blest,
Stood a soldier with sleeve all empty,
Pinned over his faithful breast.
nd asked of the watchful guardian,
"Can l enter the stately door?
For l seek for one long absent
Whom | loved in the days of yore.
"He went away in the summer,
Ger the field of ripening heat,
And we missed the merry whistle
And the tread of boyish feet.
And the days and months passed slowly
And braided into years.
But no boy came back from the southland
To check the gathering tears.
"But oft when the day was fading,
And the dew fell thick on the grain
We listed in vain for the whistle
With brooding nameless pain.
So l seek him now in this city
Hidden in walls of green,
With houses of marble and granite
And strange little mounds between"
So | entered the voiceless city
Meath the arch of ivy old,
And the sun in it's splendor of setting
Hinged the way with its crimson and gold.
And noted the flowers bloom ed brightly
AS I walked through each veil kept street,
But never form 1 saw there,
And never a friend to greet
But [ saw through the glinting sunshine,
Cleaning white like the foam of the sea,
The long curving lines of granite
That marked each streets boundary,
And the houses were just blocks of marble
Perchance with a name in the stone,
Or date or sometimes number,
And many were marked just unknown"
l turned from the sweet silent city
With its matches of flowers and sod,
Where comrades have met, never greeting,
Fast asleep in the bosom of Cod
And ! read in the sunsets glory,
Flung out in crimson tide,
The lessons of home and courage,
Learned by the heroes who died
And 10! where the cloud-rock parted,
With the riffs of sunlight between,
An angel looked down ON the city
From mist of rose-hued sheen.
Like a vision of peace and beauty
Seemed her wonderful gloritied face,
And her voice like music's sweet echo,
Floated down through the infinite space
ooh FRIEND with nameess longing,
Pause now in your sorrowful quest,
For the form which you loved in your child
Lies at peace in this valley of rest.
Like the storm that rises in summer
Came the roar and the binding flash,
And the life of the brave young martyr
Went out in the battles crash,
'But safe DER the shadowy border
OF the unseen mystical lands.
Where flowers celestial are blooming,
Tended by angel hands,
" here the crowns of the heroes shriven,
With shining Jewels are rife,
Where there's never a cloud of sorrow
He lives in the perfect life -
Slow faded the sunlight golden,
Far out DER the western lea,
And the form of the Angel vanished
Like lily that sinks in the sea,
And the eve-star tremhled in beauty
In her place in the amber west,
And strange sweet peace stole DER me
AS l thought of the vision blest.
Perhaps in that magical country
When they meet in the great review.
My lad who went forth in the summer
May stand in his suit of blue.
Will he know me, wonder? The sister
Who cried when he marched away,
When place my hand on his shoulder
Will he smile like that far off day?
Forgive, oh my friends, my shortcomings,
My lack of profession and creed
But think when we meet the great Giyer
Our gift will be that which we need.
And He who plants in our bosoms
This passion of loving and pain,
Will clasp still closer in heave
The links of the unbroken cnan.
HELEN n. PACKARD.
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