The National tribune., 1899-06-01
THE VETERANS MEMORIAL DAY.
BY T. C. HARBAUGH.

With crutch by chair the veteran sits
alone by open door, q
He hears the drums that deeply stir his
old blood as of yore,
And Memory wings her flight again to
GeoTgiaS waving pines,
Where once the buecoats nobly stood in
matchleSS ba:tle-lines;
Again he greets his comrades brave who
marched in columns deep
To strew the graves Of heroes true who
on the hillsideS sleep
The gallant lads with whom ne fought in
regions far away,
Before Columbia sanctified her first Me
mortal Day.
No longer does he guide the plow as once,
with sturdy hand,
He guided it. before he joined that loved
and loyal band
Who, meath the Nations flag of stars,
heroic faced the foe
Amid the awful storm of death, but that
was long ago;
With recollcctions of the past he looks
adown the years,
Recounts with Joy "A soldiers lie, It's
triumph and it's fears;
And heaves sigh for those who rest,
his comrades brave and true,
Secure from battles rude alarms, I'm
mortal in their blue.
What IL his eyes grow moist again WHAT
if his hair is white'
He feels as young as when he marched 50
nObly to the fight;
The story that his crutches tell is blaZ-
oned on that page
Where Hist'ry's pen has written oi mel
most heroic age;
He dreams Of amp-mateS lett behind De
meath the Southern sun,
Where, Laughing to the Summer seas, the
crystal rivers run;
He sees the campfires blaze once more on
many a distant hill,
Again he guards the silent camp beside
the lovely rill.
The echoes of the bugle's blasts are there
to thrill his soul,
For him the battles charge rings out, he
hears the drums long roll,
And when to-day he looks upon the thin
heroic lines,
He quick recalls the hosts that fought De
meath the lOrdly pines;
The graybeards limp adOwn the street
beneath Old Glory fair,
The people of the countryside in gay
attire are there; =.
But for the veteran, old and grim, his
heart is far away,
Mid scenes that Memory fOndly links tt
this Memorial Day.
"Thank God!" he cries, "I see the flag be-
meath whose folds | stood :,
That fearful day, when shot and shell
went crashing through the wood;
Divided then. united now, one country
meath the stars,
PREPARED to bear it's hallowed shape
through all our future wars;
The notes of victory, loud and strong,
to-day are lingering still,
Where North and South upheld our nag
upon San Juan's Hill;
II floats before a wondering world and on
the bOundleSS main,
Where our united country broke forever
the power Of Spain.
al cannot march, but still my heart goes
with the boys to-day
Who scatter where my comrades sleep the
wreaths of rose and spray;
Ere long I'll sleep beneath the pines upon
the hillside fair,
Where not battle shout IS heard 10 sur
the Summer air;
In Glory's bivouac to rest until the Grand
Review,
Where gallant men who fought in gray
will march beside the blue;
Where all the old old comrades on the
grand eternal plain
Will greet their old commanders true ana
elbows touch again"
The ranks have vanished down the street,
the veteran bows his head,
And breathes a prayer Tor those VINO
share the bivouac OF the dead;
He seems to see the flowers fall upon
each cherished form
That breasted in the long ago the awful
battle storm;
A smile lights up his kindly face as he
salutes once more
The flag that fiutterS in the breeze beyond
his open door;
He fingers while he hears the sound OF
music far away. -,
And gives his benediction to the land 5
Memorial Day.