( FROM " LINCOLN'S GRAVE " )

Old soldiers true, ah, them all men can trust,
Who fought, with conscience clear, on either side;
Who bearded Death and thought their cause was just;
Their stainless honor cannot be denied;
All patriots they beyond the farthest doubt;
Ring it and sing it up and down the land,
And let no voice dare answer it with sneers,
Or shut its meaning out;
Ring it and sing it, we go hand in hand,
Old infantry, old cavalry, old cannoneers.

(1894)
Read at Sanders Theater to the Phi Beta Kappa Brotherhood of Harvard College.
I
May one who fought in honor for the South
Uncovered stand and sing by Lincoln's grave?
Why, if I shrunk not at the cannon's mouth,
Nor swerved one inch for any battle-wave,
Should I now tremble in this quiet close,
Hearing the prairie wind go lightly by
From billowy plains of grass and miles of corn,
While out of deep repose
The great sweet spirit lifts itself on high
And broods above our land this summer morn?
II

" WHAT 's that that hirples at my side? "
The foe that you must fight, my lord.
" That rides as fast as I can ride? "
The shadow of your might, my lord.

" Then wheel my horse against the foe! "
He's down and overpast, my lord.
You war against the sunset-glow,
The judgment follows fast, my lord!

" Oh, who will stay the sun's descent? "
King Joshua he is dead, my lord.
" I need an hour to repent! "
'Tis what our sister said, my lord.

" Oh, do not slay me in my sins! "
You're safe awhile with us, my lord.

Roses red and roses white
Plucked I for my love's delight.
She would none of all my posies —
Bade me gather her blue roses.

Half the world I wandered through,
Seeking where such flowers grew.
Half the world unto my quest
Answered me with laugh and jest.

Home I came at wintertide,
But my silly love had died
Seeking with her latest breath
Roses from the arms of Death.

It may be beyond the grave
She shall find what she would have.
Mine was but an idle quest —
Roses white and red are best!

Yet at the last, ere our spearmen had found him,
Yet at the last, ere a sword-thrust could save,
Yet at the last, with his masters around him,
He spoke of the Faith as a master to slave.
Yet at the last, though the Kafirs had maimed him,
Broken by bondage and wrecked by the reiver,
Yet at the last, tho' the darkness had claimed him,
He called upon Allah, and died a Believer!

There were three friends that buried the fourth,
The mould in his mouth and the dust in his eyes,
And they went south and east and north —
The strong man fights but the sick man dies.
There were three friends that spoke of the dead —
The strong man fights but the sick man dies —
" And would he were here with us now, " they said,
" The sun in our face and the wind in our eyes. "

The lark will make her hymn to God,
The partridge call her brood,
While I forget the heath I trod,
The fields wherein I stood.

'Tis dule to know not night from morn,
But greater dule to know
I can but hear the hunter's horn
That once I used to blow.

" If I have taken the common clay
And wrought it cunningly
In the shape of a God that was digged a clod,
The greater honour to me. "

" If thou hast taken the common clay,
And thy hands be not free
From the taint of the soil, thou hast made thy spoil
The greater shame to thee. "

And you may lead a thousand men
Nor ever draw the rein,
But before you lead the Fairy Queen
'Twill burst your heart in twain. "

He has slipped his foot from the stirrup-bar,
The bridle from his hand,
And he is bound by hand and foot
To the Queen of Fairy Land.

" I have a thousand men, " said he,
" To wait upon my will;
And towers nine upon the Tyne,
And three upon the Till. "

" And what care I for your men? " said she,
" Or towers from Tyne to Till?
Sith you must go with me, " said she,
" To wait upon my will.