Classic Poem

Another spring has come and gone,
E'en as its flowerets brighten on
The fields, then fade and die.
Another summer's balmy air,
Another autumn's leafy glare,
Have left our cheerless sky.

Another year for Time's vast store,
To join the ages gone before,
The reaper garners in.
And now we reach the natal day
Of Him who gave his life away
To expiate man's sin.

We reach that day of greatest joy,
Of happiness without alloy,
Reminding of His love;
That welcome day to young and old,
Which gives to those of earthly mould
A joy like that above.

But now o'er all our bleeding land,
From where upon the glistening sand
The Atlantic flings its spray,
To where the blue Pacific waves
Reverberate through ocean caves
And mark the close of day,

From cots upon the mountain-side,
From lordly temples built to pride,
From avenues and fields,
There rises still the same sad wail;
Swelling and deepening every gale,
Which each bereaved heart yields,

For husband, father, brother, son,
In battle lost or victory won,
Fallen in Southern land,
To die upon the hard-fought plain,
And with their own heart's blood to stain
An unfamiliar strand.

How grateful, then, ought we to be
That once again we round us see
Each well-remembered face!
That death has still our circle spared,
While others, taken unprepared,
Have gone and left no trace!