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Robert E. Lee
237
ROBERT E. LEE
By MARY DECKER
When the fate-fraught war was over
And the planter's slaves were free
And the South lay stricken, palsied,
Like a lightning-blasted tree—
One name from out the millions
Bade the anger demons flee.
This name of magic import?
It was that of Robert Lee.
By the fireside, round the campfire,
On ships anchored at the quay—
Wherever valor's worshipped
One hears the name of Lee.
And today the Southern soldier,
Wherever he may be,
Bows his head in love and reverence
At the memory of Lee.
And the mighty, ponderous rivers
That go rolling toward the sea
'Neath the lonely, starlit heavens.
Chant the requiem of Lee.
Lake Providence, La.
