XIII
NATURE'S MEMORIAL DAY
How Earth and Sky Observe this National Holiday
Up to the brow of Cemetery Hill
The serried battle ranks still press to-day.
The saxifrages in Confederate gray
Charge to the robin's bugle, piping shrill.
In Union blue the sturdy violets still
Shoulder to shoulder in the battle sway
And, rank on rank, the rising onslaught stay,
While cheers of song-birds through the woodland thrill.
And yet peace reigns, and both the gray and blue
Mingled in garlands on the field will lie
Marking a soldier's grave, or blue or gray,
Shoulder to shoulder waiting, who shall say?
We only know they wait beneath the sky
While garlands deck them, wet with tears of dew.
In my town the little "God's Acre" in which
the pioneers snuggled to sleep under the protecting
shadow of their first rough church has
grown over hill and dale to a score of acres. The
church long since moved out of its own yard, as
if to give the pioneers room, yet lingers gently
