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Unveiling of Confederate Monument
Chapter X 2>. 'Barron, U. D. C., Bpck Hill, S, C.
9y MARGARET A. RICHARD.
PROLOGUE.
We meet today, but not to mourn
A fallen cause a hope forlorn.
No mausoleum have we built
Sepnlchering whose blood was spilt;
No urn, wherein the dust to store
Os men once here who are no more;
No tomb, to mark the sacred spot
Where lie our dead, —our unforgot.
But we have lifted here a stone
ill eyes delight to look upon;
A stone to speak aloud the truth
Unto all hearts that heed, for sooth:
That our loved cause was never lost,
And never can be (though a host
Opposed it, of superior might),
Because ’twas based on sovereign right.
The Veteran Passes.
The gray-haired veteran, passing by,
Brave as his comrades dead,
When to this stone he lifts his eye,
Will proudly rear his head.
For though ’twas not for fame he fought
Nor yet for future praise,
Such recognition, come unsought,
Glads his declining days.
And yet more -deeply is he moved
To see a lustre shed
Upon the names of men he loved,
And loves still, though long dead.
He feels not vain was their defeat,
And not in vain they died,
Since deep in hearts, a refuge sweet
And holy, they (abide.
And passing on, in faith assured,
His thoughts half-sadly dwell
On life’s hard struggle, long endured,
And yet he says, “Tis well.”
For if mankind a record keep,
Whose outlook is so small,
Much more shall God, who doth not sleep
But watcheth, keepeth all.
LET VS HONOR OVR CONFEDERATE DEAD
ATLANTA, GA., APRIL 22, 1909.
Glad children sweet,
Though light on their feet,
And swift to run,
Will loiter by,
And lift the eye
To this large stone.
And they, I’m sure,
Will ask far more
Than many know:
Why right should fail?
Why wrong prevail?
Why thus? —Why so?
And they will speak,
With glowing cheek
And Kindling eyes,
Os things we’ve thought
Not of, yet fraught
With meaning wise.
Such as: “Well, when
Lived such brave men,
Were children good?
Or did they cry
To say goodbye,
As now we should?
“And did they write
On pages white,
And send afar,
Sweet letters to
Their fathers who
Were in the war?
“And did they pray
Each night and day
That God would spare?
For if they prayed,
’Tis strange indeed
He did not hear I”
Youth Passes.
Young men, in reverence, will uncover here,
And speak in soft tones of record fair
Their fathers made, so brave to dare and do,
So loyal to the cause accounted true, —
And true as ’tw’as accounted. They shall gain
New courage for life’s struggle and its strain,
Their hearts by holiest ambition fired, —
Their spirits to resolve and zeal inspired,
Because in them shall stir and thrill again
The memory of great deeds by great men.
And they, mayhap, will murmur: “In those days,
Dwelt giants on the earth, commanding praise
Not only for their own ephemeral day,
But for all days, till time shall pass away,
And of alLmen, —men large and tall as they.”
Children Pass.
And though we smile,
Our eyes the while
Shall swim in tears;
For children teach
In simple speech
Truths unawares.
And we, as though
We saw, shall know
Hearts brave to meet
The foeman’s dart,
Shrank sore to part
From wee ones sweet.
And we shall see,
Clear as can be,
A soldier bend
By flickering light,
To read aright
A page child-penned.
The “Now I lay”
That children say,
He longed to hear;
And grieved to miss
The goodnight kiss
His lips held dear.
And just as we
Os babes shall be
Instructed so,
They too in turn
Os us shall learn
Truths good to know;
Truths they shall keep
Bright while sleep
Within the tomb;
Nor let a spark
Die out in dark
Oblivion’s gloom.
The Stranger Passes.
The stranger, dwelling in our land,
Reared on some distant, alien strand,
Made curious by this stone,
Will ask wherefore we crown
These men, on whom, in periods past,
The contumelious stone was cast.
And we on issues dear shall dwell,
Nor blush some glorious truths to tell,
Unfolding to his view
A record clear and true,
Till he shall of our heroes feel:
“How brave in war! —in all how real!”
Though fair traditions cherish he
Os his far home across the sea,
Yet never may he show
Deeds fairer than we know:
For History’s most glorious page
Records no nobler heritage.
And we who love our past, as do
The Hebrews theirs, with love so true
We wear it in the heart
As of the soul a part,
Shall teach our neighbor, late unknown,
To love as it were his own.
Women Youthful.
Our women, whom men diadem
(The royal spint born in them
Os their brave mothers, who bore well
Whatever in war-times befell),
Will ever bid the laurel wave
Above the Southern soldier’s grave.
As woman in those sad days kept,
With care that wearied not, nor slept,
The hearth-stone warm whereto might
come
The warrior to find love at home,
So now she keeps alive the light
That to his memory burns bright.
She rears a monument o’er head,
That tells us thought brave millions bled
The dear-loved cause for which they died
Lives on, forever to abide:
That truth demands the highest price,—
A hecatomb of sacrifice.
TWO VOL LAUS A TZAX.
HVZ CZNTS A COTT.
