I HEAR again the tread of war go thundering through the land, | |
| And Puritan and Cavalier are clinching neck and hand, | |
| Round Shiloh church the furious foes have met to thrust and slay, | |
| Where erst the peaceful sons of Christ were wont to kneel and pray. | |
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| The wrestling of the ages shakes the hills of Tennessee, | 5 |
| With all their echoing mounts a-throb with war’s wild minstrelsy; | |
| A galaxy of stars new-born round the shield of Mars, | |
| And set against the Stars and Stripes the flashing Stars and Bars. | |
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| ’Twas Albert Sidney Johnston led the columns of the Gray, | |
| Like Hector on the plains of Troy his presence fired the fray; | 10 |
| And dashing horse and gleaming sword spake out his royal will | |
| As on the slopes of Shiloh field the blasts of war blew shrill. | |
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| “Down with the base invaders,” the Gray shout forth the cry, | |
| “Death to presumptous rebels,” the Blue ring out reply; | |
| All day the conflict rages and yet again all day, | 15 |
| Though Grant is on the Union side he cannot stem nor stay. | |
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| They are a royal race of men, these brothers face to face, | |
| Their fury speaking through their guns, their frenzy in their pace; | |
| The sweeping onset of the Gray bears down the sturdy Blue, | |
| Though Sherman and his legions are heroes through and through. | 20 |
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| Though Prentiss and his gallant men are forcing scaur and crag, | |
| They fall like sheaves before the scythes of Hardee and of Bragg; | |
| Ah, who shall tell the victor’s tale when all the strife is past, | |
| When man and man in one great mould the men who strive are cast. | |
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| As when the Trojan hero came from that fair city’s gates, | 25 |
| With tossing mane and flaming crest to scorn the scowling fates, | |
| His legions gather round him and madly charge and cheer, | |
| And fill the besieging armies with wild disheveled fear; | |
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| Then bares his breast unto the dart the daring spearsman sends, | |
| And dying hears his cheering foes, the wailing of his friends, | 30 |
| So Albert Sidney Johnston, the chief of belt and scar, | |
| Lay down to die at Shiloh and turned the scales of war. | |
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| Now five and twenty years are gone, and lo, to-day they come, | |
| The Blue and Gray in proud array with throbbing fife and drum; | |
| But not as rivals, not as foes, as brothers reconciled, | 35 |
| To twine love’s fragrant roses where the thorns of hate grew wild. | |
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| They tell the hero of three wars, the lion-hearted man, | |
| Who wore his valor like a star—uncrowned American; | |
| Above his heart serene and still the folded Stars and Bars, | |
| Above his head like mother-wings, the sheltering Stripes and Stars. | 40 |
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| Aye, five and twenty years, and lo, the manhood of the South | |
| Has held its valor staunch and strong as at the cannon’s mouth, | |
| With patient heart and silent tongue has kept its true parole, | |
| And in the conquests born of peace has crowned its battle roll. | |
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| But ever while we sing of war, of courage tried and true, | 45 |
| Of heroes wed to gallant deeds, or be it Gray or Blue, | |
| Then Albert Sidney Johnston’s name shall flash before our sight | |
| Like some resplendent meteor across the sombre night. | |
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| America, thy sons are knit with sinews wrought of steel, | |
| They will not bend, they will not break, beneath the tyrant’s heel; | 50 |
| But in the white-hot flame of love, to silken cobwebs spun, | |
| They whirl the engines of the world, all keeping time as one. | |
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| To-day they stand abreast and strong, who stood as foes of yore, | |
| The world leaps up to bless their feet, heaven scatters blessings o’er; | |
| Their robes are wrought of gleaming gold, their wings are freedom’s own, | 55 |
| The trampling of their conquering hosts shakes pinnacle and throne. | |
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| O, veterans of the Blue and Gray, who fought on Shiloh field, | |
| The purposes of God are true, His judgment stands revealed; | |
| The pangs of war have rent the veil, and lo, His high decree: | |
| One heart, one hope, one destiny, one flag from sea to sea. | 60 |
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