  I HEAR again the tread of war go thundering through the land, The wrestling of the ages shakes the hills of Tennessee With all their echoing mounts athrob with war’s wild minstrelsy; A galaxy of stars new-born around the shield of Mars And set against the Stars and Stripes the flashing Stars and Bars. ’Twas Albert Sidney Johnston led the columns of the Gray, Like Hector on the plains of Troy his presence fired the fray; And dashing horse and gleaming sword spake out his royal will As on the slopes of Shiloh field the blasts of war blew shrill. “Down with the base invaders,” the Gray shout forth the cry, “Death to presumptuous rebels,” the Blue ring out reply; All day the conflict rages and yet again all day, Though Grant is on the Union side he cannot stem nor stay. They are a royal race of men, these brothers face to face, Their fury speaking through their guns, their frenzy in their pace; The sweeping onset of the Gray bears down the sturdy Blue, Though Sherman and his legions are heroes through and through. Though Prentiss and his gallant men are forcing scaur and crag, They fall like sheaves before the scythes of Hardee and of Bragg; Ah, who shall tell the victor’s tale when all the strife is past, When, man and man, in one great mold, the men who strive are cast? As when the Trojan hero came from that fair city’s gates, With tossing mane and flaming crest to scorn the scowling fates, And fill besieging armies with wild disheveled fear; Then bares his breast unto the dart the daring spearsman sends, And dying hears his cheering foes, the wailing of his friends, So Albert Sidney Johnston, the chief of belt and scar, Lay down to die at Shiloh and turned the scales of war. Now five and twenty years are gone, and lo, to-day they come, The Blue and Gray in proud array with throbbing fife and drum; But not as rivals, not as foes, as brothers reconciled; To twine love’s fragrant roses where the thorns of hate grew wild; Aye, five and twenty years, and lo, the manhood of the South Has held its valor staunch and strong as at the cannon’s mouth, With patient heart and silent tongue has kept its true parole, And in the conquests born of peace has crowned its battle roll. But ever while we sing of war, of courage tried and true, Of heroes wed to gallant deeds, or be it Gray or Blue, Then Albert Sidney Johnston’s name shall flash before our sight Like some resplendent meteor across the somber night. America, thy sons are knit with sinews wrought of steel, They will not bend, they will not break, beneath the tyrant’s heel; But in the white-hot flame of love, to silken cobwebs spun, They whirl the engines of the world, all keeping time as one. To-day they stand abreast and strong, who stood as foes of yore, The world leaps up to bless their feet, heaven scatters blessings o’er; Their robes are wrought of gleaming gold, their wings are freedom’s own, The trampling of their conquering hosts shakes pinnacle and throne. Oh, veterans of the Blue and Gray who fought on Shiloh field, The purposes of God are true, His judgment stands revealed; One heart, one hope, one destiny, one flag from sea to sea. Kate Brownlee Sherwood. |
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