The age-herald. [volume] (Birmingham, Ala.) 1897-1902, 1899-04-27
our Confederate Dead

Wake up my muse, from slumber rise,
Bright is the earth and fair the skies;
The birds are singing everywhere,
And flowers sweet perfume the air;
Sweet gentle spring has come again,
And everywhere on hill and plain,
Artistic Natures works are seen
In festoons fair and banners green.
Then wake my muse, attune thy Tyre
My soul with melody inspire;
And let me now the thoughts impart
That echo in my heaving breast
And plead in vain to be expressed.
No simple rhyming roundelay
Will now suffice, for l essay
To sing in high and rapturous strain
The praises of our hallowed slain.
Yes, it's of these my song shall be,
Brave martyrs, they, to liberty.
And oh, my muse could never ask
A more sublime or holy task.
For never since the world began,
Since God created living man, Il
Has ever more heroic band
Been marshaled out In any land,
Than they who took the sword in hand
To battle for our southern land;
Nor drawer men have never bled, i
Nor better blood was ever shed, 4
Nor shed for cause more pure and grand, I
Than was that of our southern band. i
Then would to God my muse could rise Il
On soaring wing to yonder skies 4
And pluck the shining orbs of night 4
Like roses, that in garlands bright, 1
Each star might shine an immortclle i
For those who for my country fell.
1 burst, If such could but do, Il
Snatch from yon dome of azure hue
Each sun and moon and satellite i
That beams within the crown of night 4
For this my song, that every line Il
Might scintillate and brightly shine Il
Effulgent, glorious and so grand
That everywhere on sea and land
The hosts of earth entranced should standx ]
And up on high the angel band ~
Shnuln and erla dIxr haor
A strain so glorious and so clear.
Yet even then 'twere all in vain,
And poor indeed the rapturous strain
For though each word and every thought
With Inspirations glow was fraught
And voiced with grand crescendo swell,
In praise of those who fought and fell,
'Twould be in vain and fail indeed
To give to them one 1.-THE the need
OF praises due, or family tell
How God-like, grand and brave they fell;
For mortal pen nor mortal tongue
Nor angel choir hath ever sung
A song of praise in lofty strain
Half worthy of our martyred slain.
And yet for all, my humble muse,
When called to sing will not refuse,
But catching Inspirations CLEAN
From Heaven sent, my noble theme
Should be enough my soul to fire,
To warm me and my heart inspire
And make each word and every line
With beauty and with brtllance shine,
Il VI uODlSI theme was never given
To man on earth or saint in Heaven
Than that which stirs my soul today
The praise of men who wore the gray
From burning Sumpter, by the sea,
To Appomattoxs apple tree;
From Chesapeake in Maryland
To border shores of Rio Grande
Like demigods from first to last
They met the raging battle blast,
And daunted not by thunder crash,
Or cannonade, or lightning flash
Or musketry, all undismayed
With bayonet and flashing blade
They struggled on or fighting fell
Their only cry, the rebel yell,
Which in its wild. defiant notes
Outrang the brazen cannon's threats,
And higher, louder seemed to rise
As on they fought, till earth and skies
Reverb rant shook, and at the last
High Heaven looked and stood aghast
To see the wreck and carnage dire
Left in their wake of stubborn ire
But look today-how changed the scene
Those battlehelds are wrapped in green, |
lid beautious flowers, fresh in bloom
Distlling there their sweet perfumes;
While high Ger all is sweetly heard
The peaceful notes of mocking bird
And Ger each mound that marks the grave |
Where rests the bones of martyred brave,
Our lovely women, sweet and fair,
VIII come today with garlands rare
OF eEergreens and richest blooms
TO decorate their hallowed tombs.
And as they kneel and place them there. |
With fervent hearts will send a prayer 4
To Him who reigns beyond the sky, II
To bless their ashes where they lie, 4
And grant to each in Heaven a place n
Who fought for home and pride of race 4
And died defending southern rights, A
True to their God, chvarous knights; j
And in that last great coming day, a
When time on earth shall cease for ave, d
And God shall call from out the skies 4
To all the dead OF earth to rise a
l trust to see in that great day a
Our marshaled hosts in grand array, n
Each laurel-crowned with victor's wreath, a
Triumphant over sin and death, Il
Soar up in one great column grand Il
To that supreme celestial land y
Where angels and archangels bright II
Shall open wide the gates of light 81
And gladly hail and welcome them, 81
Whilst cherubim and seraphim al
And everything with voice to sing IL
Shall join to make the heavens ring I
With gladstone shout and welcome song !
To Gods redeemed-the mighty throng |
whose praises now we sing with pride,
The bravest men that ever died.
DIR. o. II. DOZIER.
Birmingham, Ala.
Il y