Memorial Day: Poems & Reflections

Dear Family, Friends, & Colleagues:

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 six 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)