Page:Southern Historical Society Papers volume 21.djvu/210

 202 Southern Historical Society Papers.

Sleep well ! The strife is past ;

No war-drum's rattle Breaks forth, nor bugle's blast.

Hushed is the battle. Wrapt in your native earth,

Sweet be your slumber ! When shall we match your worth ?

When your deeds number?

Strewn be this sacred sod,

Soldier's fit pillow. Whence your souls sprang to God,

With sorrow's willow ! Many a youth shall bring

Many a maiden, Tribute of balmy spring

Here, flower-laden.

Sleep on, but not for aye !

Should war's red chalice Dash out its gory spray

Over our valleys, Come ! In the battle's crest

Flash your proud lances, Lead where our bravest, best

Column advances!

The beautiful memorial service of Vicksburg Camp, Confederate Veterans, preluded by music by the band, was then read by the camp's chaplain, Rev. No well Logan, the responses being recited at the same time by the veterans with grand effect. A chorus of fifty singers rendered the hymn used in this service. At its close thirty lovely little flower girls led the way to decorate the graves. " The Bivouac of the Dead " was then recited by Mr. John McQuade, with dramatic fervor and eloquence. The band played another national air, and the Weaver Light Artillery fired a second salute.

At this point in the proceedings indications of a storm became so threatening that the conclusion of the program was adjourned until 8 o'clock at the Opera House.