The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1901-05-30
THE NATIONS DEAD.

This. Memorial day, is the Nations most
pathetic holiday. The consecrating hand OF
time is with the recurring years making
more tender and more reverent our MEM
cries of the dead but unforgotten ones
whose country's honor demanded the sac
rifce of their lives. To foster, by the an
nual memorial observance of decorating
soldiers graves, the memories of those who
nobly died in honor that our Union might
be maintained, is a wise and pathetic duty.
Generations are here who knew not the
war, and others will rise which know not
the warriors. save by the historic scroll.
But their examples live undimmed. their
memories perish not; the lessons of their
nobility are the highest instruction the
country's youth is given. The patriot is
devotion's tpye; the un~returning volunteers
of the great struggle furnish us our purest
example of high duty. There can be no
more impressive sight than that of the liv-
Ing soldiers of the war bearing wreaths
with which to decorate the graves of their
fallen comrades. The ranks of the veterans
are growing thin. Each year sees battal-
lens and regiments crossing the river to the
hIvouac of the dead. The survivors COM
pose but a fading remnant OF the grand
army which went forth in the bloom ana
vlgor of their youth to the hazards OF the
most terrible and disastrous war OF modern
INES. AS grow feeble the hands which
forty years ago waved sad farewells, and
as grow dim the eyes which then blazed
with the fire OF patriotism lit from free
dom's altar, there comes upon hfe's stage
those to whom descends, as a tender herit-
age, the honor of remembrance, the privI-
iege OF symbolizing by their tribute of flow
ers that there lives after him who died for
his country an endearing name in an I'M
perishable niche of glory.
In all the cemeteries of the land these
tender ceremonials of remembrance and
honor viii be paid to the heroic dead, COW
ering their grassy mounds with freshest,
fragrant wreaths. Not on bridal broWs are
the blossoms OF spring better bestowed
than when they strew the burial places or
the brave who fell in arms. But there are
many graves of those who fell in the great
war which only garlards shaken from or
chards. and waxy bloom from magnolia
trees. shivering. odorous and pale. will dec
crate to-day, Tor many lie in unknown and
unnoted places; their graves unmarked
by mound or headstone. unwet with tears.
To them let Mother Earth. VINO holds them
in her bosom, be kind. Let lilies wave over
them their pale truce-1ags, and clover bios
SONS browse above them. and honey-laden
bees. with moaning dirge, distill their Wild
flower fragrance upon the sacred SOD. ShaIl
not the violets catch in their sapphire
chalices the tears Of evening and morning
10 shed upon the unregarded turf Whlcn
covers them? Let the WHY grasses, Smlt-
ten with the wind, wave their edulem, ana
let the oak send forth above them the
moan Of its sorrowing leaves. Shall not
these unknown heroes be held in cherished
recollection? History does not record their
rames or their achievements-they are the
unknown dead. Unmarked their graves,
unsought their resting places-the unre-
turning braves who. by the dim light OF
lanterns, were buried where they fell. UNI
shrouded. with fixed. beseeching eyes I'M
shut. and cold hands clutching nothing; eyes
and hands for which other eyes and hands
afar waited uEavailingly through what Bit
ter seasons % hope fading into incertitude
and darkening into despair, Only Mother
Nature can garland their graves with
wreaths for valor. for she hides the secret
OF their sepulcher.
J. o. HARDESTY.
Anderson, Ind. MAY %.