The Republican journal. [volume] (Belfast, Me.) 1829-current, 1896-06-18
"The Passing of an Army."

The above is the title of the poem read at the
Memorial services in Washington, D. G. .by T..
j. Bookings, which we copy from the Even
ing Star OF that city. Mr. Brookings was a
Gardiner soldier, and was in the same COM
pany with Mr.. Wadsworth, who delivered
the Grafton here. They were both good SOL
dlers, and their productions are worthy of
the occasion. [Reporter-Journal.
Faster and faster,
Faster and faster,
Whlten the locks and wrinkle the faces
Locks once youthful and faces 80 fair:
Times tarres not in its slow, sure PAGES
Lille moveth on till the grave it embraces.
AND the Reaper's scyt cuts here and there,
Faster and faster
Thinner and thinner,
Thinner and thinner,
Grow the proud ranks of the Army of Blue
Ranks so mighty in war days agone:
wonderful Army! so brave and so true,
Loyal and trustful, all those days through :;
But the Army grand, since its work is done,
Grows thinner and thinner
Closer and closer,
Closer and closer
Tighten the ties that bound it together
Ties welded strangely-so terribly strange
Bound by the thongs of Wars rude tether,
Or the summers heat or the wintry
weather,
Wounds, prisons, marches hither and
tmther-
Oh! how many are severed by times sad
change,
But the fewer are closer,
Bearer and dearer,
Bearer and dearer,
Thoughts are cherished of other days
Days OF suffering and toll and danger,
Branching the cheek mid lannon's blaze,
And testing courage through the battle
craze;
See ye not " by the past, oh, stranger,
Grows dearer and dearer?
Brighter and brighter
Brighter and brighter,
Sh1neth the cause for which thew fought
Fighting to win, or else to die
Self was lost-life counted nought,
In this sacred work so fifty wrought,
And freedoms light will, as years 60 by,
Grow brighter and brighter.
Clearer and clearer.
Clearer and clearer,
Blazes that light of Freedom now
Light, out of shadows of battle strife,
Made pure and constant-all aglow
With radiant faiths that tirmer grow
From out the sacrifice of life,
And clearer and clearer.
RAISING, passing,
Passing, passing,
Over and away is the Army of Blue,
Passing away, aye, passing away;
The bugle sounds for the brave and true,
And the drum Still beats its loud tattoo,
But the camps are broken and the roll
calls few;
Oh, grand old Army! thou art day by day
Passing away.
Ever, forever,
Forever, ever,
Thy fame shalt live, tho dust thou art:
Grand Army of the Golden Age
And coming youth and seer and sage
Shall learn, from thy historic page,
The cost of their bood-saved heritage,
And need thee praise from depth Of heart
Fore'er and ever.
Scatter sweet flowers,
Flowers sweet flowers,
Garland with roses the graves Of these
dead,
Ye that shall live to honor them So;
Perchance, with flowers, tears may be
she'd
AS songs are chanted and prayers are said
Ger the dust Of the braves of long ago,
AS We strew sweet flowers
Some time, some time,
Mayhap some time,
On heavens eternal camping ground.
They will all be in vast array;
Though no drum may roll nor bugle sound
Nor Wars dread presence hedge them
round,
Perhaps in heavens own peaceful way
They will have one grand memorial day,
Some time, some time.