O FRIENDS , why gather you here to-day in the flush of the golden weather,
With your arms reversed and your colors furled, and your heads bowed low together?
There are cheers for the victor, and flowers for the bride, and songs for the happy-hearted,
And a prayer for the soul that is groping alone in the shadows that time has started;
There's a kiss for the child, and a ring for the bride, and a rose for the happy lover,
There are smiles for the guest, and a rosy nest that the last-born babe may cover;
There's a laugh for the feast, and a gift for the priest; there are vows for the holy altar;
But what has the valley of death for him in whose praises our voices falter?
" O Jamie McPherson, Jamie McPherson! " The cry is the cry of a mother;
But the little lad goes, and the little lad comes no more beside sister or brother;
The little lad goes, and the cherished chief comes a prince in his pride and his valor;
And the hero-heart thrills as it fills with his fame, and the craven is ashen with pallor.
" O Jamie McPherson, Jamie McPherson! " The cry is the cry of a Nation,
For the prince in his pride lieth low in the trail and the trampling of sore tribulation.
The brave heart is dust and the bright sword is rust, and under the sod he is lying,
Whose heart was a babe's in the lovelight of peace, and a lion's when bullets were flying.
As over the grave of her first-born son the mother in infinite yearning
Remembers each kiss and each touch of the hand from the gloom of the shadows returning,
Recalls all the grace of the best-beloved face as she scatters the lilies and roses,
While a tear on each stem like a diadem the wealth of devotion discloses, —
So over the grave of her hero to-day the Nation in sorrow is bending,
The rose of regret and the roses of love with the lilies of memory blending;
The grace of the lily, the pride of the rose, that sweet in the heart are a-blowing,
Where the soil is a prayer, and the dew is a tear, and a-sorrow the hand that is sowing.
Before this mute image of soldierly pride, ye comrades who loved him, uncover!
No lordlier man than it symbols e'er rode with the ranks of the knight or the lover;
No statelier form wore the blue and the gold, and the shimmer of stars on his shoulder,
With a steadier mien and a steadier heart and a step that was truer and bolder.
No voice with a call that was clearer rang out where the columns were forming,
No chief with an eye that was keener swept on where the battle was storming —
Sped the charge of the lines, scaled the crest of the pines, bore down to the carnage the faster,
Lay calmly to rest with face to the foe in the gloom of a direr disaster.
Before this mute image of greatness, dear sons of the commonwealth, tarry!
For here were the virtues that nations extol, the graces that princes should carry;
The courage to toil, and the life without soil, the filial faith, and the largess
Of spirit that follows where Fealty leads the fire of her furious charges;
The hero to place and the hero to plan in the whirl of the maddening clamor,
Where the bravest turn pale and the boldest are dumb and the lips of the eloquent stammer.
Aye, tarry and study! the models are few, and the men of his mould are fast falling;
Bow down in the dust when ye list to their names, their mighty achievements recalling.
Dear land of our love, dear land of our hopes! till the pride of the patriot perish,
The deeds they have wrought, and the fame they have won, in the heart of our hearts we will cherish.
The valleys we till and the mountains we scale that girdle the zone of the Nation
Are greater and grander because they ran red with the wine of their soul's consecration;
And the hopes of the brave, and the loves of the true, and the aim of each earnest endeavor,
In the sun of their greatness shall ripen and yield in the cycles of memory ever:
In the purpose to dare and the courage to bear, in the glory of high aspiration,
In the clasp of a hand and the flight of a prayer, in the beauty of pure adoration.
O Jamie McPherson! Jamie McPherson! when men of thy model He giveth,
Eye looks unto eye, and heart calls unto heart, " Though darkness be over, God liveth , "
So the weak are made bold and the strong are held true, and a Voice stays the storm's awful power,
And the smiles of a Love that embraces the world fall down in a scintillant shower.
O Jamie McPherson! Jamie McPherson! As they mingle their praises who love thee,
Ohio, thy fond mother, blesses to-day the honors she gathers above thee:
Thou, flower and fruit of her motherhood's dream, brave son of her prophesied glory,
Immortal in name and undying in fame, and matchless in epic and story!
Let the marble and bronze tell the deeds of thy fame, and the lily and rose how we love thee,
While the grasses grow greener that over thee wave, and the breezes blow blither above thee;
For the seasons may come, and the seasons may go, and the lilies and roses may cover,
But no statelier chief or no faithfuler friend shall ride down with the knight and the lover!
In the sleet and the snow, in the sun and the shine, in the days of a far generation,
Brave soldier! keep guard, for thy type it is true, and thy shrine shareth love's adoration!
Keep watch and keep ward, while our sons shall keep guard o'er the banner that shadowed thee dying!
Keep watch and keep ward, while the Stripes and the Stars in the vanguard of nations is flying!
With your arms reversed and your colors furled, and your heads bowed low together?
There are cheers for the victor, and flowers for the bride, and songs for the happy-hearted,
And a prayer for the soul that is groping alone in the shadows that time has started;
There's a kiss for the child, and a ring for the bride, and a rose for the happy lover,
There are smiles for the guest, and a rosy nest that the last-born babe may cover;
There's a laugh for the feast, and a gift for the priest; there are vows for the holy altar;
But what has the valley of death for him in whose praises our voices falter?
" O Jamie McPherson, Jamie McPherson! " The cry is the cry of a mother;
But the little lad goes, and the little lad comes no more beside sister or brother;
The little lad goes, and the cherished chief comes a prince in his pride and his valor;
And the hero-heart thrills as it fills with his fame, and the craven is ashen with pallor.
" O Jamie McPherson, Jamie McPherson! " The cry is the cry of a Nation,
For the prince in his pride lieth low in the trail and the trampling of sore tribulation.
The brave heart is dust and the bright sword is rust, and under the sod he is lying,
Whose heart was a babe's in the lovelight of peace, and a lion's when bullets were flying.
As over the grave of her first-born son the mother in infinite yearning
Remembers each kiss and each touch of the hand from the gloom of the shadows returning,
Recalls all the grace of the best-beloved face as she scatters the lilies and roses,
While a tear on each stem like a diadem the wealth of devotion discloses, —
So over the grave of her hero to-day the Nation in sorrow is bending,
The rose of regret and the roses of love with the lilies of memory blending;
The grace of the lily, the pride of the rose, that sweet in the heart are a-blowing,
Where the soil is a prayer, and the dew is a tear, and a-sorrow the hand that is sowing.
Before this mute image of soldierly pride, ye comrades who loved him, uncover!
No lordlier man than it symbols e'er rode with the ranks of the knight or the lover;
No statelier form wore the blue and the gold, and the shimmer of stars on his shoulder,
With a steadier mien and a steadier heart and a step that was truer and bolder.
No voice with a call that was clearer rang out where the columns were forming,
No chief with an eye that was keener swept on where the battle was storming —
Sped the charge of the lines, scaled the crest of the pines, bore down to the carnage the faster,
Lay calmly to rest with face to the foe in the gloom of a direr disaster.
Before this mute image of greatness, dear sons of the commonwealth, tarry!
For here were the virtues that nations extol, the graces that princes should carry;
The courage to toil, and the life without soil, the filial faith, and the largess
Of spirit that follows where Fealty leads the fire of her furious charges;
The hero to place and the hero to plan in the whirl of the maddening clamor,
Where the bravest turn pale and the boldest are dumb and the lips of the eloquent stammer.
Aye, tarry and study! the models are few, and the men of his mould are fast falling;
Bow down in the dust when ye list to their names, their mighty achievements recalling.
Dear land of our love, dear land of our hopes! till the pride of the patriot perish,
The deeds they have wrought, and the fame they have won, in the heart of our hearts we will cherish.
The valleys we till and the mountains we scale that girdle the zone of the Nation
Are greater and grander because they ran red with the wine of their soul's consecration;
And the hopes of the brave, and the loves of the true, and the aim of each earnest endeavor,
In the sun of their greatness shall ripen and yield in the cycles of memory ever:
In the purpose to dare and the courage to bear, in the glory of high aspiration,
In the clasp of a hand and the flight of a prayer, in the beauty of pure adoration.
O Jamie McPherson! Jamie McPherson! when men of thy model He giveth,
Eye looks unto eye, and heart calls unto heart, " Though darkness be over, God liveth , "
So the weak are made bold and the strong are held true, and a Voice stays the storm's awful power,
And the smiles of a Love that embraces the world fall down in a scintillant shower.
O Jamie McPherson! Jamie McPherson! As they mingle their praises who love thee,
Ohio, thy fond mother, blesses to-day the honors she gathers above thee:
Thou, flower and fruit of her motherhood's dream, brave son of her prophesied glory,
Immortal in name and undying in fame, and matchless in epic and story!
Let the marble and bronze tell the deeds of thy fame, and the lily and rose how we love thee,
While the grasses grow greener that over thee wave, and the breezes blow blither above thee;
For the seasons may come, and the seasons may go, and the lilies and roses may cover,
But no statelier chief or no faithfuler friend shall ride down with the knight and the lover!
In the sleet and the snow, in the sun and the shine, in the days of a far generation,
Brave soldier! keep guard, for thy type it is true, and thy shrine shareth love's adoration!
Keep watch and keep ward, while our sons shall keep guard o'er the banner that shadowed thee dying!
Keep watch and keep ward, while the Stripes and the Stars in the vanguard of nations is flying!