The Salt Lake herald. [volume] (Salt Lake City [Utah]) 1870-1909, 1899-06-11
MISSING.

(Bushrod W. James, IL D., in Christian
Advocate.)
The pages were scanned each morning
With eagerly anxious eyes,
For the war cloud had frowned its warn
Had broken and dirnmed the skies;
There were echoes of cannon rattle,
And news of the fearful strife.
Where the gain or the loss OF battle
Was freighted with loss or life.
A victory won? Cheer madly.
But gaze not the stained field Ger.
For Freedom fair robes are sadly
Begrimed with the smoke and gore!
There are faces in calmest slumber
That never a sound snail wake
There are wounded and manned whose
number
viii many roll call break!
There is shrieking and sad, low moan
There is agony all suppressed;
There are pitiful cries and grooming,
And signs from the sore distressed!
The banners are torn and spattered
With powder and trampled mud;
And .. there are garments tattered
And reeking with precious blood!
But the battle was won, and flying
The news OF the war was sent;
While over the dead and dying
The pitiful moonlight bent.
And over each long, slim column,
THE Wounded, The Missing, The
Dead
Bent ewes with expression solemn
O'er-dimmed with the tears they sned.
Dead, Swiftly the sad news greeting
The heart that has hoped in vain
Makes the lips, the one word repeating.
Grow white in the grasp of pain
Dead All, his life was given
To honor his country's fame.
But sadly the hearts are rlveh
Who weep Ger each martyrs name.
''Wounded!' a strong limb shiyered
To shreds by a cannon pall:
Hands gone that in pride delivered
Their ali TO the Nations call!
And cripples to tell the story
of all that the day had done
OF the fight and the field OF glory
Blood-red in the settlng sun.
Our dead we will bury sadly,
Above him the flag shall wave.
Whose honor had won him gladly
To rest in the soldiers grave!
We speak of him ever proudly,
Though never a word or fame
Nav have shouted his praises loudiy,
Nor hailowed the soldiers name
Our wounded we ever cherish,
They were ready to fight and die.
To some il were less to perish
Than broken and bruised 10 lie,
And hear of the army spoken,
of the fights that were won or lost
But they know not how 1alr a token
They are of Rebellion's cost
Rut tell us where are the 'Missing?"
In prison TO pine away?
or. when the fierce balls came Kissing,
Were they scattered so Tar away
That their comrades could never know
them 80,
BY the fragments about the field?
Did only their absence show them
They. too had been forced to yield!
Are they lying within some valley,
of he RAJ
That gladly in triumph rally
or stumble in swift retreat!
Are they raving for cooling water,
And lifting their burning eyes
Away from that field OF slaughter
Far up to the starlit skies!
o. tenderly blow above them
Sweet winds of the gentle night.
And whisper of those who love them.
And soothe them till morning light
Shall bring them relief and shelter
And ease from their racking pains
But o. must they writhe and welter
And die on those blood-wet plains!
Are they resting beneath the river,
Forced down by the rushing foe.
With never an eyelid culver
To show that they feared TO go!
Some day will we see them coming
Manned. pallid, and almost dead!
All hope in the heart is humming,
1t lightens the aching head
o, tell us where we may find them.
Our brave ones who went away!
Whether chains of the foeman bind them
or Death holds them in his SWAY.
We hope and despair and ponder,
And search where the battle led
Heart-weary- our spirits wander,
All, Missing" is worse than @Dead!'