Evening star., 1951-10-05
HOBBY?
(Fr0nl Mrs. J. J. r.,
LeTin0tOn Pnrk.)

4@OAstS6Sf1 a VI ""/
would appreciate it if any of
you readers could suggest hobbies
which could be self-taught in the
home. am young mother liv-
ing in a rural district and I find
myself with quite a few spare
hours. I've attempted knitting
and crocheting without much sue
cess. So I would like suggestions
and directions as to how to teach
myself the suggested hobby or
where I could obtain reading ma
terial which would instruct me.
y y X X
BIVOUAC OF THE DEAD.
From F. r., ArlinotonJ
P. c. L., The poem ''The Bivou-
ac of the Dead" was written by
Theodore O'Hara on the occasion
of the removal of the bodies Of
the Kentucky soldiers who were
killed at Buena Vista to their
native State. 1t consists OF 10
stanzas of 8 lines each. If you are
not able to acquire copy. write
me through RICH and will en-
deavor to have a copy made for
you.
From Mrs. H. W. j., WGshingtonJ
The poem you wish is "The
Bivouac of the Dead" by Theodore
IO'Hara. 1t is on page 438 in '"The
Best Loved Poems of the American
People," selected by Hazel Felle-
man, Garden City Publishing Co.
(Fron1 A. T. S., WnshingtonJ
The mufaed drums sad roll has beat the
soldiers last tattoo;
No more o9 lies lifs,s parade shall meet the
On fames eternal camping ground their
silent tents are spread
And glory guards with solemn round tne
bivouac of the dead.
No rumor Of the foes advance now sWeils
No troubled thought at midnight haunts
of loved ones left behind;
No visions Of. Of the moTEow'' MORE! strife th'
| dawn shall call to arms.
Their shivered swords are red with rust.
their plumed heads are ooWso' s.. =.
Their naughty banner trailed in DUST
the red Stains from each brow,
And the proud forms by battle gasheo are
| free from anguish now.
The neighing troops the flashing blade.
The charge the dreadful cannonade. the
din and shout are passed,
NO shall si' thrill HN3 With afSe ferce delisht
Those breasts that never more may leei
| the rapture Of the fight.
Like the fierce northern hurricane that
sweeps his great plateau,
Flushed with triumph yet to gain came
| down the seeried foe.
Who heard the thunder of the fray break
DER the fields beneath.
I Know well the vatchTord OF tnat Gay
| was victory or death.
Full many a mothers breath hath swept
/ DER augustura's plains.
And long the plying sky has wept above
/ its mouldered slain.
The ravens scream, or eagles night. or
shepherds pensive lay,
ALONE now wake each solemn height that
! frowned o'er the dread fray.
Sons of the dark and bloody ground. ys
must not slumber there,
Where stranger steps and tongues re-
sounds alons the needless air;
Your own proud lands heroic soil shall
! be your filter grave;
She claims from war its richest soil, the
/ ashes Of her brave.
Thus meath. their parent turf they rest.
| far from the CORY held.
Borne to Spartan's mothers breast on
The sunshine Of their native sky shines
| sadly on them there
And kindred eyes and hearts watch By
the heroes sepulchre.
Rest on, embalmed and sainted oeaoi
| Dear as the blood ye gave:
No impious footstep here shall tread the
4 herbage of your grave!
Nor shall your glory be forgot while fame
i her record keeps,
or honor points the hallowed spot where
| yalor proudly sleeps.
You marble minstreIs voiceless stone in
| deathleSS song shall tell
When many vanished year hatn noWn,
| the story how you fell;
Nor wreck. nor change. nor winters blight,
nor times remorseless doom.
Can dim one ray Of holy light that gilds
| your glorious tomb.
Theodore O'Hara