 | Poems by Julia C. R. Dorr |  |
66
FROM BATON ROUGE
From the fierce conflict and the deadly fray
A patriot hero comes to us this day.
A patriot hero comes to us this day.
Greet him with music and with loud acclaim,
And let our hills re-echo with his name.
And let our hills re-echo with his name.
Bring rarest flowers their rich perfume to shed,
Like sweetest incense, round the warrior's head.
Like sweetest incense, round the warrior's head.
Let heart and voice cry “welcome,” and a shout,
Upon the summer air, ring gayly out,
Upon the summer air, ring gayly out,
To hail the hero, who from fierce affray
And deadly conflict comes to us this day.
And deadly conflict comes to us this day.
Alas! alas! for smiles ye give but tears,
And wordless sorrow on each face appears.
And wordless sorrow on each face appears.
And for glad music, jubilant and clear,
The tolling bell, the muffled drum, we hear.
The tolling bell, the muffled drum, we hear.
Woe to us, soldier, loyal, tried, and brave,
That we have naught to give thee but a grave.
That we have naught to give thee but a grave.
Woe that the wreath that should have decked thy brow,
Can but be laid upon thy coffin now.
Can but be laid upon thy coffin now.
Woe that thou canst not hear us when we say,—
“Hail to thee, brother, welcome home to-day!”
“Hail to thee, brother, welcome home to-day!”
67
O God, we lift our waiting eyes to Thee,
And sadly cry, how long must these things be?
And sadly cry, how long must these things be?
How long must noble blood be poured like rain,
Flooding our land from mountain unto main?
Flooding our land from mountain unto main?
How long from desolated hearths must rise
The smoke of life's most costly sacrifice?
The smoke of life's most costly sacrifice?
Our brothers languish upon beds of pain,—
Father, O Father, have they bled in vain?
Father, O Father, have they bled in vain?
Is it for naught that they have drunken up
The very dregs of this most bitter cup?
The very dregs of this most bitter cup?
How long? how long? O God! our cause is just,
And in Thee only do we put our trust.
And in Thee only do we put our trust.
As Thou didst guide the Israelites of old
Through the Red Sea, and through the desert wold,
Through the Red Sea, and through the desert wold,
Lead Thou our leaders, and our land shall be
For evermore, the land where all are free!
For evermore, the land where all are free!
Hail and farewell,—we whisper in one breath,
As thus we meet thee, hand in hand with death!
As thus we meet thee, hand in hand with death!
God give thy ashes undisturbed repose
Where drum-beat wakens neither friend nor foes;
Where drum-beat wakens neither friend nor foes;
God take thy spirit to eternal rest,
And, for Christ's sake, enroll thee with the blest!
And, for Christ's sake, enroll thee with the blest!
| Poems by Julia C. R. Dorr | |