Our upon the gleaming May-tide
In its dulcet ebb to-day
Lo, a craft of sweetest flowers
Drifts 'neath banner-masts away,
Ling'ring tenderly to scatter
All its precious burdens where
Our beloved heroes slumber
By the hillsides here and there!
Precious craft! unloose thy moorings
When the embers of the day
Sink in crimson sunset glory
O'er those treasured shrines of clay,
And to yonder shore of Heaven
Bring our messages of love
Where no cruel swords are clashing
In their bright soul-ranks above!
ANNIE M. TOOHEY.
Watervliet, N. Y.
Troy Daily Times. May 30, 1900: 2 col 3.
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