All we use or know,
This our fathers bought for us
Long and long ago.
The Old Issue
And yet she keeps it, as she must.
For since she heard the word, bereft,
It’s all of him that she has left.
Recall his image, love renewed.
With pride and sorrow, in his stead,
They form a pillow for her head.
To answer calls for liberty.
Though he’s been gone for many years,
His memory still ties her to tears.
Processionals of neatest starch.
And they salute the sacrificed,
Who gave beyond what could be priced.
To honor all the fallen men
And pray for loved ones left alone
With nothing by a granite stone.
Her loyalty thus to proclaim,
And hold his empty hat again
Until she joins the freedom train.
|Public domain photo|