 | At the holy well |  |
71
ARMY OF THE POTOMAC.
[PENNSYLVANIA AVENUE, MAY, 1865.]
Soldiers, returned from many a fight, to-day
I call another year, another May:
Then from your homes at first ye marched away.
I call another year, another May:
Then from your homes at first ye marched away.
Your country summoned; what quick answer came
Shall never be forgot by human fame:
The North was red with one electric flame!
Shall never be forgot by human fame:
The North was red with one electric flame!
The dragon's teeth were sown that started men—
(So may the land be never sown again!)
Ye were the crop that sprang in armour then.
(So may the land be never sown again!)
Ye were the crop that sprang in armour then.
72
Lo, every highway made its end in one,
With stern advancing dust against the sun!—
A line of bayonets thrust to Washington!
With stern advancing dust against the sun!—
A line of bayonets thrust to Washington!
I heard, I saw!—the street ye tread to-day
Took echoes that shall never pass away,
Visions that shall be visible for aye!
Took echoes that shall never pass away,
Visions that shall be visible for aye!
—Ye come from many a long-remembered fight:
Your flags are glittering, in the windy light,
With names that make their tremulous stars more bright!
Your flags are glittering, in the windy light,
With names that make their tremulous stars more bright!
Banners whose rags are famous, veterans too,
Pathetic with the storms they fluttered through,
Ye bear in pride and tenderness with you!
Pathetic with the storms they fluttered through,
Ye bear in pride and tenderness with you!
Ye come—ye are not all that went away:
Another myriad, great as yours, to-day
Keep their encampment with the flowers of May.
Another myriad, great as yours, to-day
Keep their encampment with the flowers of May.
73
—Ye came from homes that haply echo still
With your last footsteps on the quiet sill:
Go back, go back, the empty air to fill!
With your last footsteps on the quiet sill:
Go back, go back, the empty air to fill!
Ye came from new-plowed fields and wheated lands,
Where the old harvests called for willing hands:
Go back to join the gentle reaper bands!
Where the old harvests called for willing hands:
Go back to join the gentle reaper bands!
Ye came—the work is done ye came to do:
Go back, go back, O servants tried and true—
Go back to find your Land created new!
Go back, go back, O servants tried and true—
Go back to find your Land created new!
Washington, D. C.
| At the holy well | |