Page:Southern Historical Society Papers volume 17.djvu/222

 214 Southern Historical Society Papers.

IV.

Then came the end, my Countrymen,

The last thunderbolts were hurled !

Worn out by his own victories

His battle -flags were furled.

And a history was finished

That has changed the modern world.

A$ some saint in the arena Of a bloody Roman game As the prize of his endeavor Put on an immortal frame, Through long agonies our Soldier Won the crown of martial fame.

But there came a greater glory To that man supremely great (When his just sword he laid aside In peace to serve his State), For in his classic solitude He rose up and mastered Fate.

He triumphed and he did not die !— No funeral bells were tolled — But on that day in Lexington Fame came herself to hold His stirrup while he mounted To ride down the streets of gold.

He is not dead ! There is no death !

He only went before,

His journey on when Christ the Lord

Wide open held the door,

And a calm, celestial peace is his :

Thank God forevermore.

V.

When the effigy of Washington In its bronze was reared on high, Beneath a stormy sky, To utter to the multitude His name that cannot die.
 * Twas mine, with others, now long gone,

And here to-day, my Countrymen,

I tell you Lee shall ride

With that great " rebel " down the years—