[Anonymous poem at the Grand Army of the Republic’s ̶=
0;Memorial Day, 1919” ceremony. This was nearly 55 years after the ca=
rnage or the War Between the States (no war should be called “civil&#=
8221;) and the few living veterans had gathered with a number of vets from =
World War I to pay tribute to the fallen]
THE LENGTHENING LINE=
In Heaven =
too, each blossoming May,
I think they keep Memorial Day;
And not in =
scattered, feeble groups,
But one great host of marching troops.
The soldier l=
ines are shortening here,
Swiftly, sadly, year by year;
But yonder, i=
n the skies of spring.
The glorious lines are lengthening.
Still waves Ol=
d Glory, even there,
And Heaven itself is not more fair.
Still rises =
in that peaceful land
The music of the martial band.
No wounds, no weariness! =
they know;
The springing youth of long ago.
Their speeding miles as s=
toutly run
As in the days of Sixty-one.
And how the shining columns cheerAs mighty generals appear.
Heroes of fortune’s high degree.
Grant, S=
herman, Sheridan, and Lee!
=
Ah, yes, and Lee; for on those plains
No thought of=
ancient strife remains,
But brotherly they march away,
The comrade b=
lue beside the gray.
And thus as each recurring year
The soldier lines grow s=
horter here,
Our saddened thoughts will gladly rise
To that review be=
yond the skies.
=
~~
Dr Bob Griffin
[email protected] www.grif.net
"Jesus Knows Me, This I L=
ove!"