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274 We would build it out of the great white truths

Their death hath sanctified,

And the sculptured forms of the men in arms,

And their faces ere they died.

And what heroic figures

Can the sculptor carve in stone?

Can the marble breast be made to bleed,

And the marble lips to moan?

Can the marble brow be fevered?

And the marble eyes be graved

To look their last, as the flag floats past,

On the country they have saved?

And the answer came: The figures

Shall all be fair and brave,

And, as befitting, as pure and white

As the stars above their grave!

The marble lips, and breast and brow

Whereon the laurel lies,

Bequeath us right to guard the flight

Of the old flag in the skies!

A monument for the Soldiers!

Built of a people's love,

And blazoned and decked and panoplied

With the hearts ye build it of!

And see that ye build it stately,

In pillar and niche and gate,

And high in pose as the souls of those

It would commemorate!