GARLAND THEIR GRAVES

Daily Telegraph (Napier), Issue 7440, 10 August 1895, Page 6 (Supplement)

GARLAND THEIR GRAVES

Softly the snows of the winter have covered

Graves that we garland with blossoms to-day, Lovingly o'er them the grasses are

greening, Smiling in beauty to welcome the May.

Prayers have been answered and hopes have been shattered, Chills of the April and winds of the March

Faded the blue of the violet's petals, Blighted the buds of the maple and lurch. Yet in thanksgiving we mingle our

voices, While a low murmur of anguish and

pain Blendeth forever with all our rejoicing, Soundeth its wail through our gladsomest strain.

O'er us the skies of the springtime are bending, Arching above us their tremulous blue ;

O'er us one flag in its beauty is floating, Black to the heavens reflecting their

hue—

Starry-gemmed azure and bands of the sunset,

Bars of the moonlight in silvery sheen, Chrism of blood for its deep tion, Baptism fearful by priesthood unseen. =;:- * « # „

Mustering bugle and thunder of cannon Challenge our answering echoes no more. Now on death's camping ground meet

wo as brothers,

From the far west to the orient shore. 'Neath the green tents with their curtains of grasses, 'Broidered with gold by the sun and the rain, Rests there an army no bugle can rally,

Never reveille can summon again. Call we the roll of the brave who have fallen,

Out from the silence no syllable

comes ; Only an army of phantoms is gathered, Marching in file to the beat of our drums.

Come we again with the guerdons of valor,

Bring we a tribute, O comrades of ours,

Roses and lilies we bear for our fallen, Garland their graves with our loveliest flowers.

—Alice M. Guernsey.