The daily Gate City and constitution-Democrat. (Keokuk, Iowa) 1916-1922, 1916-05-31

lied or infinitely quieted. No pen can
trace it's portent, no tongue can sing
It's pathos. 1t Is time for heart and
soul, whose fullest speech is silence.
And on this day 1t is a pleasant and
,, comforting thought to believe that
the spirits OF our dead hover like
guardian angels about us, sharing in
the joys and sorrows. partaking in
the hopes. ambitions and endeavors
OF our lives, in some manner, by some
means, whose conception bewilders
and yet solaces the mind of man.
And thus sobered and awed as If in
celestial presence and in spiritual
companionship, the nations living as
sembled here today, to offer tribute
ito the memory Of the nations dead.
And how fitting at this season of
the year! II there be aught in the
promise OF another life; if the grave
does not end all; If that hope of i'm
mortality is true, as we believe it
is-that hope that like a tide has
ebbed and flowed within the human
heart, beating with its countless
waves against the sands and rocks
of time and fate-how eminent1y fit
ting that we choose this day to rend-
er homage to those dead we know
must live again.
For today even nature has cast
aside the dull habiliments of death
and in the verdant garments of her
perennial resurrection, sings in the
glory Of her everlasting life. In this
happy sunshine of May, loiters the
lingering spirit of Misunderstanding
spring. Tree and shrub, hillside and
meadow have put forth once more
their emerald shafts. of promise.
The world itself has awakened; its
old, yet ever new tragedy, again be-
gins its endless repetition and every
living thing gives forth a gladstone
homage to its new born youth. And
in abiding faith that beyond the veil;
beyond that night called death, there
is another day of sunshine and of
JOY; in the firm conviction that in
this transformation so strangely
wrought in the material world, we
behold the symbol and the pledge
Of those changes that are vouchsafed
us from mortal life to life immortal,
we gather flowers today and strew
them on the grassy mounds of those
we loved; flowers that spring from
the resurrection and the life beyond
the grave.
Records Give Inspiration.
The trend Of time is ever onward:
it's current ever sw1ft-today becomes
yesterday-the morrow soon today.
Oblivion, with her sable wing, blots
out the deeds OF men and dumb for
getfulness smiles on ungratefully.
But in the ruthless rush of centuries,
all does not dfe-the record of great
and noble deeds, of mighty thoughts
and saintlike sacrifices, shine out
upon the emptiness of ages, eternal
beacon lights of inspiration. 1t is a
long time since Sumpter's message
sounded round the world; a long
time since Appomattox sealed the
covenants of peace: since Lincoln
laid his life work down and Sher-
man, Sheridan and Grant rejoined
their armies in the great beyond
but it all Lives in sweet and holy
memory today; with you, soldiers of
the civil war--it lives at the purchase
price Of conflict and of blood; with
us of later generation as glorious |
heritage and priceless birthright We
hear from your lips the story of the
nations salvation-and hearing 1t |
are better men and more steadfast |
Americans.
The eternal purposes of God span
the ages: they can not be read in
days or years, they must be read in
centuries. Events vast and vision
like came forging forth from that dim
void where are beaten out the pat |
tern of the ages yet to come. God
called to the nation and she answered /
with a Lincoln and a Grant. God |
called to the nation. One bugle note |
and forth leaped thousands of her
loyal sons, their hearts aflame, their |
voices answering back a shout, key
ed to the anthems of liberty.
Live over Again Those Days.
And today we live again in the
days Of the rebellion. We see you
enter on this fratricida1 strife: we
hear the bugles of the nation call and
feel the war drums shake the an
swering earth: we behold the mar
shaling of the hosts of freedom-we
see the runs of the woodland and the
pathways of the farm awakened by
the eager volunteer-we see him
crowd the hamlet-side and village
street, press on and fill the avenues
Of city and of town and at last, in
serried ranks and crowded columns
march down the high road of the
nation, undaunted, undismayed. We