Classic Poem

I

'Tis fifty years, my Brother, since on that fatal day,
Confronting one another in grim war's dread array,
The Gray and Blue with courage true
Met on this field for deeds of rue,
To slaughter and to slay!

Hate filled our eyes then, Brother, and rage enthralled each heart —
A rage that naught could smother, and drove us mad, apart.
Each fought for right as right he knew,
And as we fought our madness grew,
And poisoned every dart.

Blood-lust was on us, Brother. We writhed beneath its spell,
And sons of the same mother beneath its madness fell.
We maimed, and lamed, and blindly slew —
Each did the deed he had to do
Nor knew that it was Hell!

The skies grew lurid overhead,
As shot and shell with carnage dread
Their sanguinary horrors spread,
And scarlet grew the meadows green,
And great streams babbled o'er the scene,
And every stream was red!

II

To-day we meet again, Brother, upon that self-same field.
Forgot is every pain, Brother, in newborn Love revealed.
The Blue and Gray, in glad array,
Stand face to face as on that day,
And every wound is healed!

The madness of the fray, Brother, the blindness of the fight,
Like to that dreadful day, Brother, have faded in the night,
And hand in hand the Spirit band
As well as we together stand,
Together face the Light!

E'en as the blood we shed, Brother, the blood of warriors true
In one stream mingled red, Brother, and sped thence to the blue,
All blent in blessed unity,
So in a Union blest run we
To face what we've to do!

III

Gone is the rage that filled our hearts.
Gone is the hate that dulled our eyes,
And here where flew envenomed darts
The Palm of Peace Fraternal lies.
Where Brother once his Brother slew,
And grim war dimmed the skies above,
Once more we come, the Gray, the Blue,
To hold a Festival of Love!