The Irish standard., 1898-06-25
NEWS FROM IRELAND
The Biyouac of the Dead.

The Bivouac of the Dead.
The mufed drums sad roll has beat
The soldiers last tattoo;
No more on life's parade shall meet
That brave and fallen few.
On Fame's eternal camping ground
Their silent tents are spread,
And Glory guards, with solemn round,
The bivouac of the dead.
No rumor of the foes advance
Now swells upon the wind;
No troubled thought at midnight 8
haunt
OF loved ones left behind.
No vision Of the morrow's strife
The warriors dreams alarms,
No braying horn nor screaming fife
At dawn call to arms.
Their shivered swords are red with rust.
Their plumed heads are bowed
Their naughty banner trailed in dust,
Is now their martial shrOud,
And penteous funeral tears have
washed
the red stains from each brow,
And the proud forms, by battle gashed,
Are free from anguish now,
The neighng troop, the flashing blade,
The bugle's stirring blast;
The charge. the dreadful cannonade,
Inc din and shout, are passed.:
Nor wars wild note nor glorys peal
Shall thrill with fierce delight
Those breasts that nevermore may feel
The rapture of the fight.
Like the fierce northern hurricane
That sweeps his great plateau,
Flushed with the triumph yet to gain,
Came down the serried foe.
Who heard the thunder Of the fray
Break DER the field beneath.
Knew we'll tho watchword of that day
Was Victory or Death"
Long had the doubtful conflict ragged
Ger all that stricken plain,
For never licrcer fight had wagpl
The vengeful blood of Spain;
And still the storm of battle blew,
Still swelled the CORY tide;
Not long our stout old chieftan knew,
Such odds his strength could bide.
Twas in that hour his stern command
Called to a martyrs grave
The flower of his beloved land,
The nations flag to save.
BY rivers of their fathers gore
His iirstborn laurels grew,
And we'll he deemed the sons would
Their lives for glory, too,
Full many Il northcr's breath has swept
Der Angostura's plain
And long the plying sky has wcpt
Above its nodded slain.
The ravens scream or the eagles flight
Alono awakes each sulen height
That frowned Ger that dread fray.
Sons of the Dark and Bloody Ground,
Ie must not slumber there,
Where steps and tongues resound
Along the needless air.
Your own proud lands heroic soil
Shall be your filter grave;
She claims from war his richest spoil-
The ashes of her brave.
Thus meath their parent turf they rest.
Far from the CORY field,
Borne to Spartan mothers breast
On many bloody shield;
The sunshine of their native sky
Smiles sadly on them here,
And kindred eyes and hearts watch by
The heroes sepulcher.
Rest on, embalmed and sainted dead!
Dear as the blood We gave:
No impous footsteps here shall tread
The heritage of your grave;
Nor shall your glory be forgot
While Fame her record keeps,
Or Honor points the hallowed spot
Where Valor proudly sleeps.
Yon marble minstrel's voiceless stone
In deathless song shall tell,
When many a vanished age hath flown,
The story how We fell;
Nor wreck nor change, nor Winters
blight
Nor Times remorseless doom,
Shall dim one ray of glorys light
That gilds your deathless tomb.
Theodore O'Hara, 1S47.
ARMAGH.
On the evening of May 30th. an I'M
mense congregation crowded every
available part of st. Patricks Cathe-
dral. Armagh, the occasion being. dur
Ing the second day of mission, by the
Passionist Fathers, OF the rendering Of
an act of special devotion to Our Blessed
Lady. and tho conservation Of the par
ish to her. The religious exercises
were conducted by Very Rev. Dominic
n'Na{lI oftor yyh{oh Wow, po,-