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Page 176
Brave souls and true;--in toil and danger tried,--
I see them still as in those glorious years,
When strong, and battling bravely side by side,
All crowned their deeds with praise,--and some with tears
'Tis done! the sword is sheathed; the banner furled,
No sound where late the crashing missile whirled--
The dead alone possess the battle-plain;
The living turn them to life's cares again.
Oh, Silence! blessed dreams upon thee wait;
here Thought and Feeling ope their precious store,
And Memory, gathering from the spoils of Fate
Love's scattered treasures, brings them back once more!
So let me often dream,
As up the brightening stream
Of olden Time, thought gently leads me on,
Seeking those better days, lost, lost, alas! and gone!
All Is Gone.
Fadette.--Memphis Appeal.
Sister, hark! Atween the trees cometh naught but summer breeze?
All is gone--
Summer breezes come and go. Hope doth never wander so--
No, nor evermore doth Woe.
Sister, look! Adown the lane treadeth only April rain?
All is gone--
Through the tangled hedge-rows green glimmer thus the sunbeam's sheen,
Dropping from cloud-rifts between?
Sister, hark! the very air heavy on my heart doth bear--
All is gone!--
E'en the birds that chirped erewhile for the frowning sun to smile,
Hush at that drum near the stile.
Sister, pray!--it is the foe! On thy knees--aye, very low--
All is gone,
And the proud South on her knees to a mongrel race like these--
But the dead sleep 'neath the trees.
See--they come--their banners flare gayly in our gloomy air--
All is gone--
Flashed our Southern Cross all night--naught but a meteoric light
In a moment lost to sight?
Aye, so gay--the brave array--marching from no battle fray--
All is gone,--
Yet who vaunteth, of your host, maketh he but little boast
If he think on battles most.
On they wind, behind the wood. Dost remember once we stood--
All is gone--
All but memory, of those days--but we've stood here while the haze
Of the battle met the blaze.
Of the sun adown yon hill. Charge on charge--I hear them still.--
All is gone!--
Yet I hear the echoing crash--see the sabres gleam and flash--
See one gallant headlong dash.
One, amid the battle-wreck, restive plunged his charger black--
All is gone--
Whirrs the partridge there--didst see where he rode so
recklessly?
Once he turned and waved to me.
"Ah," thou saidst, "the smoke is dark, scarce can I our banner mark"--
All is gone--
All but memory; yet I see, darksome howsoever it be,
How to death--to death--rode he.
Not a star he proudly bore, but a sword all dripping gore--
All is gone--
Dashes on our little band like yon billow on the strand--
Like yon strand unmoved they stand.
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