WHEN the May has culled her flowers for the summer waiting long, And the breath of early roses woos the hedges into song, Comes the throb of martial music and the banners in the street, And the marching of the millions bearing garlands fair and sweet -- 'Tis the Sabbath of the Nation, 'tis the floral feast of May! In remembrance of our heroes We keep Memorial Day. They are sleeping in the valleys, they are sleeping 'neath the sea, They are sleeping by the thousands till the royal reveille; Let us know them, let us name them, let us honor one and all, For they loved us and they saved us, springing at the bugle call; Let us sound the song and cymbal, wreathe the immortelles and bay. In the fervor of thanksgiving We keep Memorial Day. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TAM O' SHANTER by ROBERT BURNS THE WHITE WOMEN by MARY ELIZABETH COLERIDGE REMINISCENCE by DOROTHY ALLISON TARQUIN AND THE AUGUR by WILLIAM EDMONSTOUNE AYTOUN SONNETS OF MANHOOD: 4. THE OLD VALLEY by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) SONNETS WRITTEN IN AN IRISH PRISON: HER NAME LIBERTY by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |