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INTERPOLATION SOUNDS.

[_]

[General Philip Sheridan was buried at the Cathedral, Washington, D. C., August, 1888, with all the pomp, music and ceremonies of the Roman Catholic service.]

Over and through the burial chant,
Organ and solemn service, sermon, bending priests,
To me come interpolation sounds not in the show—plainly to me, crowding up the aisle and from the window,
Of sudden battle's hurry and harsh noises—war's grim game to sight and ear in earnest;
The scout call'd up and forward—the general mounted and his aids around him—the new-brought word—the instantaneous order issued;
The rifle crack—the cannon thud—the rushing forth of men from their tents;
The clank of cavalry—the strange celerity of forming ranks—the slender bugle note;
The sound of horses' hoofs departing—saddles, arms, accoutrements.

Note.—Camden, N. J., August 7, 1888.—Walt Whitman asks the New York Herald “to add his tribute to Sheridan:”

“In the grand constellation of five or six names, under Lincoln's Presidency, that history will bear for ages in her firmament as marking the last life-throbs of secession, and beaming on its dying gasps, Sheridan's will be bright. One consideration rising out of the now dead soldier's example as it passes my mind, is worth taking notice of. If the war had continued any long time these States, in my opinion, would have shown and proved the most conclusive military talents ever evinced by any nation on earth. That they possess'd a rank and file ahead of all other known in points of quality and limitlessness of number are easily admitted. But we have, too, the eligibility of organizing, handling and officering equal to the other. These two, with modern arms, transportation, and inventive American genius, would make the United States, with earnestness, not only able to stand the whole world, but conquer that world united against us.”


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