| Show Ingers Inger tribute tribulee to those who died for their country B E cover the graves of the heroic dead with flowers tho the past rises before me inc BS as it were tike like a dream again agai n we nye are in the great strul struggle gile for nn na tionne life wo we hear the sounds of preparation the anusic of tho the boisterous drums t the 0 silver iver voices of heroic bugles we see the palo pale cheeks checks of women and the flushed faces of men rind and in those assemblages we see nil all the ho dead whose dust wo we have covered with flowers we lose sight of them no more wo we are anro with them when they enlist in the lie great armyon briny of freedom we see part with those they love some alo ae walking for the last time in quiet woody places w with ith the maidens they adore others are lending bending over cradles kissing babes that ere asleep wo we see BOO them nil all as they march proudly away under the flaunting flags flag keeping time to tho the grand wild music of wair owr marching down the streets of tho grant brent through tile the towns and acres 4 the prairies down to thell lie fields elds of glory to td do and to dlo die ford for tile lie eternal right we go with them one and nil all lye W stand guard with willi them in tile tho wild storm and under quiet stars we anre aird with them in af ravines with blood in the furrows of 0 old I 1 d fields field a we are with t li 0 m between he contending hosts unable to move wild with thirst tho the life slowly awny away among the th e withered leaves we soe see them t h e m pierced by halls and torn with shells in the s trenches by forts and in the he whirls whirl wind of the charge where men become iron with nerves of steel we are at home when tile the caires that they are dead we sea tile tho maiden in tho the shadow of her first sorrow we see geo the silvered head of the old maa bowed with the iaea las grief tho heroes are dead they sleep under the s solemn lenin pines the sad hom locks 1 the tearful willows and the embracing vials harth earth may run red with other wars they areat are nf pence peace in th the midst of batlle in the afar roar ot of the con flici they found the serenity of death I 1 hove hilve one sentiment for the soldier living rind dead cheers ter or the living teim teara for tho dead i 0 |
