Hello everyone –
In this edition of Quotemail, we remember all our departed heroes, from many times and climes, those whom we have known and loved, and those whom we have never had the honor to know personally, but to whom we are nonetheless deeply grateful for their service and sacrifice.
The observance of
Memorial Day (originally known as Decoration Day) began in the aftermath of the
American Civil War. It was first widely observed in both North and South during
May 1867. In my family, this is a day to remember my Dad and all my uncles –
all of whom were veterans of the World War II era – and my maternal
grandfather, a veteran of the First American Expeditionary Force in World War
I. Here are a few poems and reflections to remind us of all the heroes who have
died in defense of our country – not only during the Civil War, but also before
and after.
“Decoration
Day”
By Evaleen
Stein (1863-1923)
See the soldiers,
little ones!
Hark
the drummers' beat!
See them with
their flags and guns
Marching down the street!
Tattered flags
from out the wars,
Let
us follow these
To the little
stripes and stars
Twinkling through the trees.
Watch them waving
through the grass
Where
the heroes sleep!
Thither gently let
us pass
On
this day we keep.
Let us bring our
blossoms, too,
All
our gardens grow;
Lilacs honey-sweet
with dew,
And
the lilies' snow.
Every posy of the
May,
Every
bloomy stem,
Every bud that
breaks to-day
Gather now for them.
Lay the lilies
o'er them thus,
Lovingly, for so
Down they laid
their lives for us,
Long
and long ago.
Heap above them
bud and bough;
Softly, ere we cease,
God, we pray Thee,
gently now
Fold
them in Thy peace!
The following
patriotic hymn may already be familiar to many readers. It was performed at my
Dad’s memorial service in June 2010.
"I Vow to
Thee, My Country" (1921)
By Sir Cecil
Spring Rice
I vow to thee, my
country, all earthly things above,
Entire and whole
and perfect, the service of my love;
The love that asks
no question, the love that stands the test,
That lays upon the
altar the dearest and the best;
The love that
never falters, the love that pays the price,
The love that
makes undaunted the final sacrifice.
And there's
another country, I've heard of long ago,
Most dear to them
that love her, most great to them that know;
We may not count
her armies, we may not see her King;
Her fortress is a
faithful heart, her pride is suffering;
And soul by soul
and silently her shining bounds increase,
And her ways are
ways of gentleness, and all her paths are peace.
“Crossing the
Bar” (1889)
By Alfred, Lord
Tennyson (1807-1892)
Sunset and evening
star,
And one clear call
for me!
And may there be
no moaning of the bar,
When I put out to
sea,
But such a tide as
moving seems asleep,
Too full for sound
and foam,
When that which
drew from out the boundless deep
Turns again home.
Twilight and
evening bell,
And after that the
dark!
And may there be
no sadness of farewell,
When I embark;
For though from
out our bourne of Time and Place
The flood may bear
me far,
I hope to see my
Pilot face to face
When I have
crossed the bar.
Tennyson
remarked about this poem: “The Pilot has been on board all the while, but in
the dark I have not seen him… [He is] that Divine and Unseen Who is always
guiding us.”
Let us close
with the first stanza of “Bivouac of the Dead,” a poem composed in 1847 by
Theodore O’Hara to memorialize his fallen comrades from the Mexican-American
War. These lines appear in national (especially military) cemeteries throughout
the United States, including Camp Butler National Cemetery outside Springfield,
Illinois, where my father’s mortal remains were laid to rest eleven years ago
this summer.
The muffled drum’s
sad roll has beat
The soldier’s last
tattoo;
No more on Life’s
parade shall meet
That brave and
fallen few.
On Fame’s eternal
camping ground
Their silent tents
to spread,
And Glory guards,
with solemn round
The bivouac of the
dead.
Requiescant
in pace. (May they rest in peace.)
Robertus (Rob)
