The Washington herald., 1907-05-30
THE BROKEN LINES.
BY THE LATE MAI. R. H SYLVESTER.


BY THE LATE MAI r. II. SYLVESTER.
/ Over the brow of the hill and into the
golden sunset the broken lines Of the
/ Grand Army are fast dropping out of
sight. The Old flag. SCARED and battle
stained. but embazoned with triumphant
records and mellowed with the hues Of
peace. floats above them to the last; but
the standard-bearers are falling, one after
another, in the relentless enflade Of
death. There's the new-made turf to-day
above many Of the silent slumberers.
Year by year the graves that We
molsten with tears and deck with me-
mortal blooms become more numerous.
There are thousands OF them this blessed
May morning that were not upon the list
twelve months ago.
But there Is no stint Of flowers where
with 20 weave "A broidered mantle o'er
them The soil that drinks the blood Of
the brave returns a grateful wealth Of
bud and blossom, whose perennial glory
multiplies with the multiplying years;
and still the silent march goes on
-uhitherg Where the marshaled legions-
Christs weli-w0rn soldiers from their conflicts
cease;
Where Faiths true Red Cross knights rspo.e in
regions
Thickstuddsd with the calm white tents Of peace
Turning back a leaf Of time, we see a
venerable man whose steps had nearly
approached the century mark. His limbs
were tremulous with age. but his eye had
| lost Ecne Of its brightness. and flashed
with a strange luster, as he recalled the
stirring scenes Of his youth. He had
fought at Lexington and Bunker Hill He
was one Of the last connecting links-nOw
all crumbled TO dust-between the vassal-
age and independence Of his country; be-
tween the cross Of the colonies and the
crown Of the republic. The wreathing
smoke OF battle, by some glorious trans
formation. seemed to encircle his head
like a halo
It was not many years before the fall II
Sumter. but the old man heard no NUT
terings Of the coming storm Only the
echoes Of a heroic past fell upon his ear
as he gently folded his arms 20 sleep and
entered the bivouac Of the dead Yet as
many years hence as il was years ago
that We talked face 10 face with this
dying soldier Of the Revolution. some fu-
ture chronicler may stand face to face
with the last survivor Of the war Of the
Union,
Thus may we realize the swiftness Of the
flight Of time and the rapidity with which
great events I'm human history are some
times wrought Thus are We admonished
to prize more highly the legaCies Of
strength. and glory. and peace that the
vicissitudes and convulsiOns OF a great
fratricidal strife evolved. Thus are We
prompted with an the greater solicitude
% honor the burial places of the heroic
dead and taught TO appreciate at their
truer worth the service ana self-sacTiice
Of men who. surviving the shock Of bat
tie returned 70 lay at the feet OF the
Union the fruits Of well-earned victory
and at their own thresholds. in so many
Instances. the wreck Of health and for
| tune.
As for the dead. they sleep well. The
government has generously cared for the
/ long repose Of many thousands. All over
the land the national cemeteries abound.
I like meccas. inviting the votive offerings
Of patriot pilgrims. Unnumbered thou
sands more with neither mound nor head
stone, rest IN unknown places But
wherever they sleep. be it in long-forgot-
ten trenches. Of which no trace remains:
I IN lonely forests, that have intertwined
their roots with the dead; on broad
stretches Of wood and plain, once rent
with shell and shot, but now radiant with
the products Of peace: up mountain sides.
where stout arms lost their grasp I'm the
adventurous charge by solemn-voiced
rivers. whence the fleets Of iron have
fed wherever
from a h:ndred hills
Steamed in a mist Of slaughter % the skies
the blood Of "our bravest brave 'tis no
less consecrated ground. and In God
eternal season" His own shall know
4 tr-1rrrr rrren than NAV