New Britain herald., 1917-05-30

pay tHclT BOOu Amer1CAn money to men who are not in truth good Amer ican citizens. Tho BivOuac of the Dead. The muffled drums sad roll has beat The soldiers last tattoo: No more on Hfe's parade shall meet That brave and fallen few. On famess eternal camping ground r Their silent tents are spread, And glory guardssswith solemn round, The bivonao of the dead. No rumor of the foes advance
 Now swells upon the wind; No troubled thought at midnight
 haunts
 Or loved ones left behind; No vision of the morrow's strife
 The warriors dream alarms; No praying horn, nor screaming life, , At dawn shall call to arms. Their shivered swords are red with
 rust, ss Their plumed heads are bowed: Their naughty banner, trailed in dust, Is now their martial shrowd. And plenteous funeral tears have
 washed
 The red stains from each brow, And the proud forms, by battle gashed. Are free from anguish now. The neighing troop. the flashing blade. The bugle's stirring blast, The charge; the dreadful .cannonadS, The din and shout are past: No wars Wild note nor glory's peal Shall thrill with fierce delight Those breasts that never more niay The rapture of the fight. Like the fierce northern hurricane That sweeps his great plateau, Flushed with the triumph yet to gain, Came down the sArrie foe. Who heard. the thunder of the fray n Break OCT the held beneath. Knew we'll the watchword of that day Was Victory or death, 7, ..' z Long had the doubtful conflict ragged Ger all. that stricken plain. For never fiercer light had waged The vengefuI blood Of Spain; And still the storm of battle blew. Still swelled the gory tide: Not long, our stout old chieftain knew. Such odds his strength could bide. Twas in that hour his stern command Called to . martyrs grave The hover of his beloved land. y The nations nag to save. By rivers of their fathers gorA Ills first born laurels grew, And well he deemed the sons would Their. Iivas for glory too. Full many 2 norther's breath has
 swept Der Angostura's plain And long the pitying sky has wept Above the mouldering slain. . The ravens scream, or eagles flight Or shepherds pensive lay, Alone awake1 each. suilen height That froNned oser that dread fray. sons of the Dark and Bloody Ground. Ye must not, slumber there. Where stranger steps and tongues re-
 sound
 Along the needless air: Your own proud lands heroic soil Shall be your litter grave; She claims from war his richest The ashes of her brave. : So. meath their parent turf they rest. Far from the gory field, Borne to a Spartan mothers breast. On many bloody shield; The sunshine of their native sky Smiles sadly on them here, And kindred eyes and hearts watch by The heroes sepulchre.
  Rest on. embalmed and sainted dead, Dear as the bleod ye gave: No impious footstep here shall tread The herbage of your grave; Nor. shall your glory be forgot While Fame her record keeps. Or Honor points the hallowed spot Where valor proudly sleeps. Ton marble minstrel's voiceless stone. In deathless song shaM tell, When many vanished age hath flown, The story how ye fell; Nor wreck, nor change. nor winters
 blight, < Nor Times remorseless doom, Shall dim one ray of glory's light That gilds your deathless tomb
 -THEODORE O'HARA.
  ,5s FACTS AND FANCIES.
 We used to admire the ruins of Eu-