Epigraph
And the Voice said: “Take up your lives again!
Quit yourselves manfully! Stand in your lot!
Let the Famine, the Fever, the Peril, the Pain,
Be all forgot!
“Weep no more for the lovely, the brave,
The young head pillowed on a blood-stained sod;
The daisy that grows on the soldier’s grave
Looks up to God!
“The soul of the patriot-soldier stands
With a mighty host in eternal calm,
And He who pressed the sword to his hands
Has given the Palm.”
And now I stand with my face to the west,
Shading mine eyes, for my glorious sun
Is splendid again as he sinks to his rest—
His day is done.
I have lost my rose, forgotten my song,
But the true heart that loved me is mine alway;
The stars are alight—the way not long—
I had my day!
November 8, 1908.