'Tis twilight adown the Potomac,
And over the San Juan plain,
And afar where the dusk stars are gleaming
On Belleau's dense woodlands again.
And wherever our braves reunited
March onward in treasured array,
Or sleep on the hallowed hillsides
Or under the deep oceans' spray.
'Tis twilight across the dim Argonne,
And again by old Hindenburg Line,
Where under the barbed shafts of conflict
In ambush hid many a mine,
And where from the stillness of trenches,
Oft arose a voice pleadingly low,
Calling "Mother," that only the angels
Could answer then truly we know.
'Tis twilight along the blue Hudson,
Flowing past our own homelands beside,
As the petals of virgin-white lilies
Of Peace scattered o'er the May tide
Grace the proud craft of Memory mooring
Anigh our proud banner-strewn shore--
Inspiring our hearts to remember
Our heroes are blest evermore.
ANNIE M. TOOHEY.
Troy Times. May 29, 1924: 4 col 4.