The bugles sound, the rolling drums Have signaled break of day, Arise, O comrades, and again Greet this Memorial Day; Attention, fall in line and count, One, two, three, four, begin! And answer to the roll-call now, O God, the ranks are thin! Where's Smith who fought at Seven Pines? Where's Jones who was with me At Gettysburg for three whole days And saw the rout of Lee? What, dead? No, boys, it can't be true, They marched with us last year, They seemed as well and strong as I, I thought they'd sure be here! Old Adams gone? And Sergeant Green? And full two score or more Who answer not unto their names As in the days of yore? All dead, and lying 'neath the ground? Yes, boys, it must be so, Or else they'd march with us today And answer "Here," I know. I fear me, boys, it won't be long Before our time will come, We'll have to recognize the call When Death shall beat the drum. Our ranks are few, and fewer still Another year will find, It won't be long ere not a one Of us is left behind. But while we're here, O comrades, show Our colors all unfurled, God bless that flag; we saved it, boys, It's honored o'er the world. And once again today we'll think Of those who fought and died To keep our Union all intact And bled on Freedom's side. Now, forward march; right shoulder arms. Forget your years again, The band leads on; acquit yourselves Today like valiant men. Another year, maybe, we too Will sleep in Mem'ry's bed, But here today, we're privileged To honor noble dead. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LAUGHTER (YOUTH SPEAKS TO HIS OWN OLD AGE) by CONRAD AIKEN CAVE PAINTING by HAYDEN CARRUTH CAESAR'S LOST TRANSPORT SHIPS by ROBERT FROST PUSSY-WILLOW TIME by ROBERT FROST CHERRY BLOSSOMS BLOWING IN WEST BLOWING SNOW by JAMES GALVIN |