from a gentle sleep, murmured, “O Lord, God Almighty, as Thou wilt!” and passed serenely into that other sleep, which knows not dreams.

The impenetrable veil between us and eternity permits no lifting of its folds; there is no parting of its greyness, save for a passage, but perhaps, in “that undiscovered country from whose bourne no traveller returns” Anne Coleman and her lover have met once more, and the long life of faithfulness at last has won her pardon.

[Pg 118]

[Pg 118]

Decoration Day

The trees bow their heads in sorrow, While their giant branches wave, With the requiems of the forest, To the dead in a soldier’s grave. The pitying rain falls softly, In grief for a nation’s brave, Who died ’neath the scourge of treason And rest in a lonely grave. So, under the willow and cypress We lay our dead away, And cover their graves with blossoms, But the debt we never can pay. All nature is bathed in tears, On our sad Memorial day, When we crown the valour of heroes With flowers from the garments of May.

T

While their giant branches wave,

To the dead in a soldier’s grave.

In grief for a nation’s brave,

And rest in a lonely grave.

We lay our dead away,

But the debt we never can pay.

On our sad Memorial day,

With flowers from the garments of May.

[Pg 119]

[Pg 119]

The Romance of the Life of Lincoln

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