The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932, 1921-06-30
OLD POEMS
Edilnr pnnl

Editor Pilot:
The war Of the rebellion gave birth
to many well written poems on both
sides, those of the defeated South, nat
urally breath strain of sorrow. Some
of those are worth preservation, as for
instance the poem below, which was
written on the back of a Confederate
bank note or bill, bearing the faces of
President Davis, Gen Beauregard,
Stonewall Jackson, and other Confed-
crate officers, and is entitled;
THE LOST CAUSE"
Representing nothing on Gods earth
now,
And naught in the waters below it,
As the pledge of a nation passed away,
Keep it, dear friend, and show it.
Show it to those who will lend an ear.
TO the tale this trihe will tell,
OF Liberty born of patriots dream,
OF StOrm-cradled nation that fell.
Too poor to possess the precious ores,
And too much of a stranger to borrow,
We issued today our promise to paw,
And hoped to redeem on the morrow.
The days rolled on, the weeks became
years,
But our Golfers were empty still;
Gold was so scarce, the Treasury
quaked,
If dollar should drop in the TILL
But the faith that was in us was strong,
indeed,
Though our poverty well we discerned.
And this little represented the pay
That our suffering veterans earned.
They knew it had hardly a value in
gold,
But as gold our soldiers received it,
1t gozed in our eyes with promise to
pay
And every true soldier believed it.
But our boys thought little Of price or
pay,
Or of bills that were over due,
We knew if it bought our bread today.
Twas the best our poor Country could
do.
Keep it, it tells all our history DER,
From the birth of the dream to its last; 4;
Modest, and born Of the Angel Hope,
Like our hope of success, 1t passed"
Richmond, Va COOK.
THEY SHOULD NOT REST APART
Gather the sacred dust
OF the warriors tried and true,
Who bore the flag of our nations trust,
And fell in a cause so great and Just,
And died for me and you.
Gather them, each and all,
From the private to the chief,
Come they from cabin or lordly hall:
Over their dust let the fresh tears fall;
OF a nations holy grief
No matter whence they came,
Dear is their lifeless clay,
Whether unknown or known TO fame,
Their cause and country were the
They died--and they wore the gray
FATHER RYAN.
Henry w. Grady's speech at Boston
the week before his too early death,
painted the acclaim and joy that greet
ed our victorious armies at the end of
the war as they returned home and
compared it with the return home of
the defeated confederate armies" as
buttoning up his faded gray jacket he
began his march South to his home de
stroyed, his Golfers empty his cities in
ruins, his friends and relatives dead or
scattered, his fields untitled and
drenched with the blood of war, sad,
foot-sore, weary, he met no cheering
thousands, no happy home, no smiling
faces to welcome him, his slaves freed
and by law his equal now, but he went
to work and the soil 50 lately torn by
shot and shell, soon blossomed and
hloomed with the green Of crops, the
homes and cities were builded anew by
these defeated veterans and somehow
out Of the bricks and mortarS of our
new homes we as people caught the
sunshine reflected therefrom, and today
far TO the South from here, there is a
new South, happy, prosperous and con
tented, with no apology to offer, with
nothing to take back, but we thank
God the war ended as it did with a re-
united nation, stronger, better and
more united than ever before"
These tell the "heart-aches" aud suf-
ferings of the South, of disappointment
and defeat and death; of the destruc-
tions and ruins left II as an inheritance
of its sacrifices for "The Lost Cause ;
and yet in every war since the confed-
crate veteran, or his son, was in the
front ranks of the nations army fight.
ing for the country his forefathers
tried to divide, and failed. We suffered
in that war, but ours was light as com
pared with that of the old South then.
June 25th, 1921, A MEEMEITE.