111. Manassas.
by Florence Willesford Borron.
A requiem — raise the solemn strain,Until it fires each mighty vein,
Till the great voices of the main
Speak in the tempest-strife;
Not for the hands in quiet laid,
Nor hearts that in the ranks arrayed,
The muster-roll of death obeyed--
The requiem raise — for Life!
A feeling thrills the ocean deep;
E'en Nature's self bends down, to weep
The tear above a nation's sleep,
Its night upon the wave;
They come — the guardians of the land;
They come — that noble patriot band;
They come — heroes in heart and hand,
Those “bravest of the brave.”
They fought where Glory, pale and low,
Lay wasted with the life below;
They rolled like thunder on the foe,
On lost Manassas' field;
'Gainst onward charge and rallying cry,
Though hope had fled, and death was nigh,
They bore, with gallant hearts and high,
Their eagle-flashing shield.
They came — in glory, power, and pride,
With trophies glittering by their side,
With banners won in battle's tide,
In triumph and in fame!
War-worn and stern — bankrupts of life--
Broken amid the fatal strife,
Scarred where Death's shot and shell were rife,
Those shattered columns came.
Before that Southern wall of dead,
What horror round their path was spread!
E'en Bunker Hill's dark annals bled,
To be in fame outdone.
Back from the army of the slain,
From old Virginia's stern campaign,
The wreck from forth that iron rain
A mournful honor won.
Wake, glorious Union--save thy realm!
Upon the quicksands strikes thy helm!
Thy “morning-star” the storms o'erwhelm--
Thy “talent” buried lies.
Wake! by the sullen cannon's roar
That tumult bears from shore to shore,--
By HIM1 who cannot watch thee more,
Save downward from the skies.
Antaeus-like, thy sons rebound,
Uprising from the ensanguined ground,
Unflinching heart and hand — around
Shall peal the battle strain;
Till Freedom's arm upholds the right,
And, Earth renerving for the fight,
Thy stars, a meteor through the night,
In triumph blaze again.
Rise, like the Phoenix from its pyre!
Let incense from the urn and lyre,
From living bard, from deathless sire,
Embalm the banner's fold;
Till hushed shall be the trumpet peal,
The thunderous clouds where standards reel,
The setting sea of serried steel,
That from Manassas rolled.
