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 with full military honors nine 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.)
Hroberahtus
(Rob)
