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,
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gewing
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�T TT Til T=OJS2SÆS
OF
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CONTAINING
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The various Poetical Contributions written. for- theoccasion of Decorating the Graves of our Fallen Heroes,
May 29, 1869. Together with the
Jnscriftions
ON ^NTABLATURES,
Erected at Arlington; with description of the touching
ceremony at the National Cross, as part of the Memo
rial Exercises.
PUBLISHED BY M. A. C. FINCH.
WASHINGTON, D. C.
POWELL & GINCK, PBS., 409 F ST.
1869.
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Entered according to an act of Congress, in the year of our Lora'
eighteen hundred and sixty-nine, by
M. A. G. FINCH,
in the Clerk’s Oifice, in the Supreme Court, of the District of
Columbia.
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�THE POEMS
OF ARLINGTON. j
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Ths Arlington Estate.
The Arlington Estate is situated nearly due west
« * I; from the Capitol, and is accessible from Long Bridge,
> at the foot of Fourteenth street and Maryland avenue,
i) Washington, or by the Acqueduct Bridge from George’
; town. The Estate comprises a large tract of land
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’ | pike and the canal, of rich, and in times past, highly
¡' cultivated fields, but all fences having been destroyed
"i during the war, this portion of late years has been
! abandoned to the freedmen. A spring near the canal,
’ which gave its name to the Estate, where a comfortable house and extensive stables have been built on the
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plantation road leading from the south gate to the
river bank, is worthy of mention from the fact, not
well-known, that at this place the former owner of the
Estate, George Washington Park Custis, in the
early dawn of the nineteenth century, used to en*ertain
all who came to what was then known as the annual
sheep-shearing festival, on which occasion all interested
in the improvement of sheep, competed for the prizes
offered and bestowed by the liberal owner of Arling-
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�J'he Poems
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luxuriant growth of natural forest trees, oak predomi
nating, but cedar and other evergreens intermingling,
forming one of the most lovely landscapes, with rich
plains, bordering the broad blue Potomac, here over
a mile in width, with shipping of all kinds, from the
largest ocean steamer to the light sailing yacht, give
an ever-changing panorama most pleasing to contem
plate, and most beautiful to behold. The view from
Arlington house is grand.
Arlington formed but a small portion of the regal
estate belonging to the widow Custis, subsequently
known to history as the wife of the father of his
country. From Mrs. Washington the estate passed to
her son, G. W. P. Custis, and upon his death in 1857,
Arlington became the property of his daughter Mary,
wife of Robert E. Lee.
Arlington Heights was occupied by Federal troops
the night of May 23, 1861, and has been in possession
by the Government ever since. At present, however,
it is not held under any of the confiscation acts of
Congr< ss, but by virtue of a tax title, the estate having
been sold For taxes, and bid in by the Government of
the United States. Only the northwest corner, and
the plateau southwest from the mansion, are occupied
as a cemetery, the former for colored people, and the
latter for Union and rebel soldiers. In all, there are
over thirty thousand persons buried at this place;
some have been removed, but to no great extent.
Every grave has a plain white head-board, with the
name, regiment, and date of death, when such was
known ; many are marked unknown.
The mansion is old style, with massive columns, and
large portico. The rooms are good sized, and work
nicely done. Marble mantles were in the tv^o principal
rooms on either side of the hall. Those in the room
now used as an office still remain. The south wing
is occupied as a green house, and is well cared for.
�JHE pOEMS OF ^RLINGTON-
[The following Poems were written for the occasion
cf Decorating the Graves at Arlington, but owing to
prior arrangements it was found impossible to embiace
them in the exercises of the day :]
Our Fallen Comrades.
BY A. J. FINCH.
Comrades in those days of dangers,
Brothers by those ties most dear,
We have lived too long as strangers,
Coine, unite our hearts more near.
Mingle now our tears of sorrow
For those brave ones gone before,
We shall join them on the morrow,
As we near that distant shore.
Some were stricken in the battle,
Where the death-shot felled them low ;
When the air was thick with metal,
Left them in a ghastly row.
When the cannon loudly rattled,
Wildly swelled the tumult’s din :
Where the surging thousands battled,
For the victory to win ;
Where the war-clouds thickly hovered,
O’er that bloody doubtful plain ;
And their mangled corses covered,
With its mantle for the slain.
’Mid shrieking shot and bursting shell,
And zipping of the rifle’s ball;
’Mid dangers thick and fast they fell,
Redeeming there their country’s call.
�'J'he
Poems
of
Arlington.
But some amidst the gloomynight,
Along the lonely picket line ;
Where dangers lurked with dreaded might,
When God and man it seemed combine,
To add with terrors to the land ;
To yield them but their bated breath,
Still held them to that fatal stand,
Denied them yet a glorious death.
’Mid darkness, storm, and hail and harm,
’Mid cold, and sleet, and dangers drear,
Sturdy to bear with willing arm,
' The irksome duties so severe.
But some upon the daring raid,
• When far from friends or comrades riven,
Were smitten when the charge was made,
As from, their line the foes were driven.
And some were taken on the road,
The bivouac some laid low ;
Death sought them oft in varied mode,
Wherever they might go.
The wasting pains of dire disease,
The sunken eye, the hollow cheek,
Speak of death by slow degrees,
But far from such as soldiers seek.
Oh ! ye who’ve mingled in the fray,
And joined the deafening shout,
When wavering lines of steel gave way,
To one continuous route !
When men on men, and steed on steed,
Ne’er checked your fiery zeal ;
When sabre strokes could ne’er impede,
Nor make their victims feel.
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�J'he J?oems of Arlington.
’Mid wreathing smoke and whistling grape,
With cannister belched forth—
Tho’ wide and quick, the deadly gape
Ne’er checked the undaunted North.
As swell on swell the ocean’s wave
Breaks fierce upon the rock-bound coast,
So surged the line of veterans brave
Against the works of rebel’s host.
Oh ! ye who’ve felt the burning throb
Which victory alone can bring,
Doth not the sick’ning horror rob
Your boasted glory by its sting ?
Ah, did you mark the honor then,
When gazing on the ghastly plain,
Surrounded by these gallant men—
Was there no pity for the slain?
And is this glory, thus to die
’Mid clouds of smoke and battle’s din ?
Shame on the thought, ’tis but a lie,
A most degrading type of sin.
Give not the laurel wreath to him
Who merely yields a noble life;
The world before hath often seen
Valor displayed in useless strife.
’Tis glory only when the cause
Is worthy of a martyr’s death;
When justice, truth, and freedom’s laws
Are sullied by a traitor’s breath.
For liberty they fought and died;
To save a nation’s life they bled ;
“ God and the right ” was on their side,
And nations honor them now dead.
�Jhe
poEMS of
Arlington.
In after years, when we are gone—
Who shared alike with them the gloom—
A grateful people still will come
With garlands to bedeck their tomb.
When the earth is filled with gladness,
In the youthful spring-time come;
With our hearts still filled with sadness,
As we bear the muffled drum.
Then, as we near these hallowed grounds,
Made sacred for their resting-place,
We gather round these lowly mounds
With sad and solemn funeral pace.
Wreaths of flowers we will gently
Lay upon their narrow bed ;
And with tears of sorrow mingling
For the brave and noble dead.
From the hill-side, from the valley,
From the dark and steep ravine,
They have come to that last rally,
On this peaceful quiet green.
From the deadly charge we’ve brought them,
Gathered from the lonely shore ;
From the dismal swamp we drew them,
Ere they struggled bravely o’er.
Tho’ many comrades here have met,
As their mingling corses lay,
Missing lost ones linger yet,
Unknown, beneath the unmarked clay.
But distant friends who knew their worth
Will ne’er forget the bitter day,
When treason drew them from the hearth
Of dear beloved ones far away.
�The Poems
of
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Here they’ve met at their last roll-call,
On the calm Potomac’s shore—
Oh ! that fatal zipping ball!
They shall never dread it more.
They have heard the last assembly ;
Ne’er again the bugle note
Shall awaken in their memory
Thoughts of battle, tho’ remote.
Tatoo has sounded, taps are blown ;
Lights are out, and they are sleeping,
All undisturbed, tho’ years have flown ;
Angels o’er their camp are weeping.
Calmly now the river glides,
In its dark unruffled, flow,
As it mingles with the tides,
Murmuring peace to us below.
Who can tell what joys and sorrows
Mingle in our hearts to-day,
As we think of distant morrows,
Ere we pass that vaulted way,
To join the comrades gone before us,
Where no bugle sounds are heard ;
Where no general e’er will chide us ;
Ne’er again the armor guard.
Guard their honor and their glory,
Keep their memory ever near ;
Teach our children when we’re hoary,
How to drop the silent tear.
Teach their children how to love them,
While the heart is young and clear,
That in age they may revere them,
With a memory ever dear.
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�Jhe P’oems of 2^rl1ngton-
Flowers for the Soldiers’ Graves.
BY MRS. MARY E. NEALY.
Flowers for each hero’s bed !
Bring Roses as red as the blood they shed,
And Geraniums rich with their glowing red;
Verbenas and Pinks like the sunset skies,
And brave Sweet Williams, with scarlet eyes ;
Bring the Flos Adonis, with drops of blood—
Peonies and Poppies—a crimson flood !
Bring flowers of the rich warm red
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Flowers for their crowns so brighl
Bring guelder roses and snow-drops white
And lilies with cups like the morning ligl
Bring sweet Mayflowers, with their waxei
Syringas and spireas, which eclipse
The winter flakes with each pure white g<
Each delicate star of Bethlehem.
Bring flowers of the purest white,
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Flowers for the hearts so truel
Bring violets blue as the summer skies,
And innocence blossoms, like babies’ eyes
Forget-me-nots and the sweet-blue bell,
Which grew by the streams they loved so
Bring morning glories, and lilacs, too,
And each dear home-flower that so well th
Bring flowers of the azure blue.
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Flowers for the soldiers’ graves !
Flowers of the red, the white, the blue;
�Jhe Poems
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Arlington.
Flowers for the brave, the pure, the true;
For the hero souls who offered up
Life» love, and hope in the bloody-cup
Which was held to their country’s pallid lips.
0, fateful war ! O, dark eclipse!
Bring flowers for our fallen braves !
Flowers of the fair young spring !
We bring with their beauty and perfume
I To these hallowed grave s one day of bloom—
A single day in each rolling year
For the blossoming flower and the falling tear
To drop from woman’s eye and hand !
For the heroes and saviors of our land—
Our gifts of love we bring !
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Then home to oar daily care !
With deeper feeling and holier thought;
With a love and hope which •the day hath wrought.
With a grander faith in humanity,
And a glimpse of the life that is to be;
With a wider vision of earth-born love,
And a higher grasp of its home above,
We shall bend the knee in prayer
in prayer and praise to Thee.
Prayers for the millions that mourn to-day
For these far-off martyred forms of clay ;
And praise to the Father that rules above
For a land so girded around with love—
For the hundreds of thousand precious graves,
That broke the bonds of a million slaves,
And made our land all free !
Washington, D. C.
�Jhe Poems
of
Arlington,
Hymns.
rWritten by request for the Floral Memorial, New
York, May 31, 1869, by the editor of The Soldier's
Friend.\
OPENING HYMN.
Tune—Pley el's Hymn.
Love unchanging for the dead,
Lying here in gloried sleep,
Where the angels softly tread,
While their holy watch.they keep.
Wreaths we bring that ne’er shall fade,
Greenei' with the passing years,
Brighter for our sorrow’s shade,
Jeweled with our falling tears.
Dying that the Truth might live,
Here they rest in Freedom’s name,
Giving all that man can give—
Life for Glory’s deathless fame.
Bend in love, 0 azure sky !
Shine, 0 stars, at evening-time !
Watch where heroes calmly lie,
Clothed with faith and hope sublime.
God of nations, bless the land
Thou hast saved to make us free !
Guide us with Thy mighty hand
Till all lands shall come to Thee..
Wm. Olxnd Bourne.
�Jhe Poems
of
.Arlington.
CLOSING HYMN.
Tune—Old hundred.
Blest are the martyrd dead who lie
In holy graves for Freedom won,
Whose storied deeds shall never die
While coming years their circles run»
Blest be the ground where heroes sleep,
And blest the flag that o’er them waves,
Its radiant stars their watch shall keep,
And brightly beam on hallowed graves.
While Freedom lives their fame shall live,.
In glory on her blazing scroll,
And love her sacrifice shall give,
While anthems round the altar roll.
Year after year our hands shall bear
Immortal flowers in vernal bloom,
Till God shall call us home to share
Immortal life beyond the tomb.
Our Father, all the praise be Thine !
Thy grace and goodness we adore;
Bless our dear land with love divine,
And shed Thy peace from shore to shore.
Wm. Oland. Bourne.
�The Poems of Arlington.
Ode to the Dead.
[The following beautiful lines, composed for the occa
sion by Dr. H. Risler, and set to music by Krentzer,
were sung in an eff ctive and harmonious manner by
the Washington Saengerbund and Arion Club—in all
sixty voices, Messrs. Charles Richter and C. W. Berg
mann leading:]
Sweet be your sleep, who here, though silent,Proclaim our country’s holy rise,
That she sliouTd live, your lives were rendered,
Iler life was your devotion’s prize.
With flo wers sweet your graves we cover,
And here renew our sacred vow,
That to our country we will render
What we to your devotion owe.
----------0---------Our Native Land.
[Then followed “Our Native Land,” by theBeetho.
ven Club, which was sung with fine taste:]
With hearts now touched by tend’rest feelings,
Oh ! let us praise our native land;
For her we’ll sing our noblest songs,
And lavish gifts with open hand.
Oh, land 1 with all thy noble forests,
Thy plains, where rugged mountains stand,
With God’s pure sky, blue mantling o’er them,
�Jhe JPoem-s
OF
^Arlington,
Heaven bless thee, our native land—
God bless thee, our native land, our native land.
Let every blessing shed its fragrance,
And peace and plenty o’er us shower;
Let health and happiness attend us,
Till all have felt its magic power.
Oh ! -may the bond of faith and kindness
Forever hold us hand to hand ;
While all thy sons shall sing rejoicing,
Heaven bless our native land—
God blesa thee., our native land, our native land.
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Our Martyrs.
A POEM
Dedicated =to the memory of the Union Soldiers ^ho
fell during the -war of the rebellion, and are buried at
Arlington, Virginia.
By Francis De Haes Janvier.
Bring the fairest flowers that bloom,
Full of beauty and perfume;—
Lay a garland on each tomb.
livery sepulchre you see,
Is a shrine,—henceforth to be
Consecrate to liberty.
Here, beneath the earth’s green breast,
Loved, lamented, honored, blest—
Twice ten thousand martyrs rest ?
�Jhe Poems of Arlington.
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Twice ten thousand martyrs,—slain
Truth and justice to maintain:—
Theirs the loss, but ours the gain!
When rebellion’s fiery flood
• Swept the land, these heroes stood,—
Met, and quenched it with their blood !
Can such service be repaid ?
Can the record they have made,—
Can their glory ever fade ?
Bring the fairest flowers that bloom,
Full of beauty and perfume ;—
Lay a garland on each tomb.
Pausing on your silent way,
While affection’s vows you pay,
Bathe with tears each budding spray.
Grateful tears, with blessings fraught,
For the deeds these heroes wrought,
For the lesson they have taught.
Be your blooming garlands strown,
Doubly, on the altar stone,
Reared to those who rest—“ Unknown.”
Here, unrecognized, they lie,
But, above the starry sky,
Martyrs’ names can never die.
Kneeling on this sacred sod,
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Swear !—to follow Freedom’s God,
In the path these patriots trod !
Swear !—their little ones to bless ;
Cherish, shield them from distress ;
Unprotected, fatherless !
�Jhe J^oems
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Arlington.
Swear! —that this fair land shall be
Evermore a legacy,—
Precious,—undivided,—free !
Prayer.
Sung by Arion Club.
the stage :
This closed the exercises at
In peaceful calming breezes,
Through blooming earthly fields,
Spread God’s creation blessings,
And trusting pleasure yield.
Who tearful seeks ’neath heaven,
This golden calm of rest ;
Finds balm for all his longings,
And peace within his breast.
--------- 0---------The Hymn of Peace.
By Oliver Wendall Holmes.
Angel of Peace, thou hast wandered too long 1
Spread thy white wings to the sunshine of love ?
Come while our voices are blended in song,
Fly to our ark like the storm-beaten dove.
Fly to our ark on the wings of the dove ;
Speed o’er the far sounding billows of song,
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�JjIE pOEMS OF ^RLINGTON'
Crowned with thine olive-leaf garland of love,
Angel of Peace, thou hast waited too long.
Brothers, we meet on this alter of thine,
Mingling the gifts we have gathered for thee,
Sweet with the odors of myrtle and pine,
Breeze of the prairie and breath of the sea,
Meadow and mouutain and forest and sea,
Sweet is the fragrance of myrtle and pine;
Sweeter the incense we offer to thee,
Brothers, once more round this alter of thine.
Angels of Bethlehem, answer the strain!
Hark ! a new birth-song is filling the sky,
Loud as the storm-wind that tumbles the main.
Bid the full breath of the organ reply ;
Let the loud tempest of voices reply ;
Roll its long surge like the earth shaking main;
Swell the vast song till it mounts to the sky.
Angels of Bethlehem, echo the strain !
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The Tomb of the Unknown
Is of plain granite, about five feet in height, sur
mounted by four three-incli Rodman rifled guns, worn
out during the war, nicely mounted on each corner,
with. a pyramid of round shot in the centre. A
frame work in shape of a Greek cross was built around
the tomb, and a canopy of battle flags and silken
colors, all of which had been borne by regiments rep
resented among the dead, was erected over the tomb;
wreaths of flowers were looped from opposite corners,
and garlands suspended from the centre. The most
refined taste was displayed in this beautiful decoration.
The tomb bears the following inscription :
�Jhe J-’oems of ^Arlington.
“ Beneath this stone repose the bones of two thou
sand one hundred and eleven unknown soldiers,
gathered after the war from the fields of Bull Run and
the route to the Rappahannock ; their remains could
not be identified, but their names and deeds are re
corded in the archives of their country ; and its grate
ful citizens honor them as of their noble army of
martyrs, May they rest in peace.
“ September, A. D. 1866.”
--------- o---------Requiem,
Sung by Beethoven Club at the tombs of the un
known :
Sigh not, ye winds, as passing o’er
The chambers of the dead ye fly;
Weep not, ye dews,
For these no more shall ever weep—shall ever sigh.
Why mourn the throbbing heart at rest ?
How still it lies within the breast!
Why mourn when death presents its peace,
And o’er the grave our sorrows cease ?
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Shall We Know Each Other There?
The orphans then sung, while gathered around the
tomb of their fathers —
W1icn we hear the music ringing
�JHE pOEMS OF /tRLINGTON.
Through the bright celestial dome,
Where sweet angel voices, singing,
Gladly bid us welcome home,
To the land of ancient story,
Where the spirit knows no care,
In the land of light and glory,
Shall we know each other there?
Chorus.—Shall we know each other,
Shall we know each other,
Shall we know each other,
Shall we know each other there ?
When the holy angels meet us,
As we go to join their band,
Shall we know the friends that greet us,
I n the glorious spirit land ?
Shall we see the same eyes shining
On us, as in days of yore ?
Shall we feel their dear arms twining
Fondly around us, as before ?
(Chorus.)
Yes ! my earth-worn soul rejoices,
And my weary heart grows light;
For the thrilling angel voices,
And the angel faces bright,
That shall welcome us in heaven,
Are the loved of long ago.
And to them ’tis kindly given,
Thus their mortal friends to know.
(Chorus.)
Oh, ye weary, sad, and tossed ones,
Droop not, faint not by the way,
Ye shall join the loved and just ones,
In the land of perfect day 1
�JHE p0-EMS OF ^RLII^GTON,
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Harp strings touched by angel fingers,
Murmured in my raptured ear ;
Evermore their sweet song lingers ;
“ We shall know each other there.”
(Chorus.)
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THE NATIONAL CROSS,
At the top bore the inscription:
In memory of the heroes op
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Antietam, Gettysburg, Wilderness, Shiloh*
} Fair Oaks, Corinth, Bull Run, Stone Riveip '!
| Vicksburg, Cedar Creek, Chattanooga, Atlanta* .
Cold Harbor, Petersburg.
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® Stock of muskets on the right, a field-gun in the centre,
I and ciossed cavalry sabers on the left, emblematic of
| the three arms of the service,
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And on the foot-board
Fort Fisher, Five Fores.
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; At this Cross the following impressive and touching ?
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The soldiers’ orphans marched to the cross, each ■
' bearing a floral offering, and there presented it to a
widow in deep mourning, she passed it to a soldier in
<) full uniform but unarmed, he passed it to two men in
| citizens’ dress, one of whom had lost both, and the
D other one arm in the army ; the one-armed man laid
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the tribute at the foot of the cross. This was the most
touching and affecting ceremony during the day, and
so simple, plain, and marked in its signification as to
require no explanation: the orphan, the widow, the
army, the maimed soldier-, all stood in our presence,
and the dread realities of war were but too fully felt
by all as the sharp report of the cannon announced the
close of the exercises.
No person who witnessed the scene will ever forget
it while memory remains. It is meet that we should
never forget the lessons that this terrible struggle
' have taught us.
-0The following beautiful tablets adorn the walls of
the office :
“ Here sleep the brave,
Who sink to rest,
By all their country’s
Wishes blest.”
“ Soldier rest, thy warfare’s o’er
Sleep the sleep that knows no waking,
Dream of battle-fields no more,
Days of toil and nights of watching.”
‘‘ Whether in the tented field,
Or in the battle’s van,
The greatest place for man to db
Is where he dies for man.”
The grave should be surrounded by eve
might inspire the tenderness and venera;
dead, or that might aim the erring to virtu*
�Jhe Poems
of
Arlington.
the place of disgust and dismay, but of sorrow and
meditation.
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Erected along the main drive :
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“ The muffled drum’s sad roll has beat
The soldier’s last tatoo,
No more on life’s parade shall meet
These brave and fallen few.
“ On fame’s eternal camping ground,
There silent tents are spread,
And glory guards, with solemn round,
The bivouac of the dead.”'
“ Through all rebellion’s horrors>Bright shine our nation’s fame,
Our gallant soldiers, perishing,
Have won a deathless name.”
Erected on each side of the centre walk :
“ These faithful herald tablets,
With mournful pride shall tell,
( When many a vanished age hath flown,)
The story how ye fell.
“ Nor wreck, nor change, nor winter’s blight,
Nor time’s remorseless doom,
Shall mar one ray of glory’s light,
That guilds your deathless tomb.”
“ The neighing troop, the flashing blade,
The bugle’s stirring blast,
The charge, the dreadful cannonade,
The din and shout are passed.
�4
JHE pOEMS OF pRLlNGTON
“ Nor war’s wild note, nor glory’s peal,
Shall thrill with fierce, delight,
Those breasts that never more may feel,
The raptures of the fight.”
“A thousand battle fields have drunk
The blood of warriors brave,
And countless homes are dark and drear,
Thro' the land they died to save.”
“ Now ’neath their parent turf they rest,
Far from the gory field ;
Born to a Spartan mother’s breast,
On many a bloody shield.
“ The sunshine of their native sky,
Sm les sadly on them here ;
And kindred eyes and hearts watch by
The soldier’s sepulchre.”
“ Ilest on, embalmed and sainted dead,
Dear as the blood ye gave 1
No impious footsteps here shall tread
• The herbage of your grave ;
Nor shall your glory be forgot,
While Fame her record keeps,
Or honor points the hallowed spot,
Where valor proudly sleeps.”
The hopes, the fears, the blood, the tears
That marked the bitter strife,
Are now all crowned by victory,
That saved the nation’s life.”
�SUCCESSOR TO
G. I). WAKELY,
STEREOSCOPIC
yiEws of
the
PHOTOGRAPHER.
Public JIuildings,
IN WASHINGTON.
Also interior views of the same.
ARLINGTON CEMETERY DECORATION VIEWS,
Taken during the Ceremony at the Cemetery.
We have on hand a large and extensive Stock of all the Views
of Public Interest. Also large size pictures of the United States
Capitol, &c., &c.
We respectfully solicit the patronage of the traveling public.
A liberal deduction made to the trade.
OUR MANUFACTURING DEPARTMENT,.
WASHINGTON BI ILDING.
Cor. Penn. Avenue and 7 th Street.
FRANKLIN HOUSE,
C0R.8TH AND D STREETS,
WzlSWGW. ©• C,
The above House is situated in the centre of
the City, and withih one square of the Patent
and Post Offices, and both lines of the City
Railroads.
TERMS, $2?QQ PER
Strangers visiting Washington will find at
this House every convenience.
F. BRANDNER,
Proprietor.
�K. H. MARSH,
gitmima guwt,*
anti
NO. 407 F STREET, NEAR SEVENTH,
}VASHINGTON,
p
Ç.
NO. 409 F STREET, NEAR SEVENTH,
WASHINGTON, D. 0-,
' Are prepared to execute all kinds of Book and Job Printing,
such as:
Business, Shipping, Wedding, Visiting, and Ball Cards.
Bills of Fare, Billheads, Checks, Letter Heads, Programmes.
Lawyers’ Briefs and Blanks, Pamphlets, and Dodgers,
"f And all other Printing, either Plain oj- in Colors, equal to any
other House in the City, with the utmost neatness, and on most
’“‘reasonable terms.
JOHN L. G1NCK.
JAMES T. POWELL.
FOR MOUNT VERNON.
THE
STEAMER
ARROW,
CAPTAIN THOS^ STACKPOLE,
Leaves her Wharf, Foot of Seventh street, DAILY at 10 a. m.
(Sundays excepted,)
FOR MOIVT VERAOA,
And Intermediate Landings, returning to the City at 4 p. m.
Tickets $1.50, including ADMISSION TO THE MAN
SION AND GROUNDS.
For sale at all the PRINCIPAL HOTELS, and on board of
the Steamer.
JAMES SYKES,
General Superintendent.
Office: WILLARD’S HOTEL.
~
�
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
Victorian Blogging
Description
An account of the resource
A collection of digitised nineteenth-century pamphlets from Conway Hall Library & Archives. This includes the Conway Tracts, Moncure Conway's personal pamphlet library; the Morris Tracts, donated to the library by Miss Morris in 1904; the National Secular Society's pamphlet library and others. The Conway Tracts were bound with additional ephemera, such as lecture programmes and handwritten notes.<br /><br />Please note that these digitised pamphlets have been edited to maximise the accuracy of the OCR, ensuring they are text searchable. If you would like to view un-edited, full-colour versions of any of our pamphlets, please email librarian@conwayhall.org.uk.<br /><br /><span><img src="http://www.heritagefund.org.uk/sites/default/files/media/attachments/TNLHLF_Colour_Logo_English_RGB_0_0.jpg" width="238" height="91" alt="TNLHLF_Colour_Logo_English_RGB_0_0.jpg" /></span>
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Conway Hall Library & Archives
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2018
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
Conway Hall Ethical Society
Text
A resource consisting primarily of words for reading. Examples include books, letters, dissertations, poems, newspapers, articles, archives of mailing lists. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre Text.
Original Format
The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data
Pamphlet
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
The poems of Arlington. Containing the various poetical contributions written for the occasion of decorating the graves of our fallen heroes, May 29 1869. Together with the inscriptions on entablatures, erected at Arlington; with description of the touching ceremony at the national cross, as part of the memorial exercises.
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Finch, M.A.C. (ed)
Description
An account of the resource
Place of publication: Washington, D.C.
Collation: [26] p. ; 16 p.
Notes: From the library of Dr Moncure Conway. Annotations, difficult to read and mostly pieces of poetry, written in pencil over cover title and final pages. Includes poems by A.J. Finch, Mrs Mary E. Nealy, Dr. H. Risler, Francis de Haes Janvier, Oliver Wendell Holmes; hymn by W. Oland Bourne. Advertisements for services and facilities in the region of Arlington inside and on back cover.
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
Powell & Ginck Printers
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
1869
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
G5311
Subject
The topic of the resource
Poetry
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
<a href="http://creativecommons.org/publicdomain/mark/1.0/"><img src="http://i.creativecommons.org/p/mark/1.0/88x31.png" alt="Public Domain Mark" /></a><span> </span><br /><span>This work (The poems of Arlington. Containing the various poetical contributions written for the occasion of decorating the graves of our fallen heroes, May 29 1869. Together with the inscriptions on entablatures, erected at Arlington; with description of the touching ceremony at the national cross, as part of the memorial exercises.), identified by </span><a href="https://conwayhallcollections.omeka.net/items/show/www.conwayhall.org.uk"><span>Humanist Library and Archives</span></a><span>, is free of known copyright restrictions.</span>
Format
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application/pdf
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Text
Language
A language of the resource
English
American
Arlington Cemetery (Va.)
Conway Tracts
Memorials
Poetry
-
https://d1y502jg6fpugt.cloudfront.net/25778/archive/files/2085824327f5ff3105605c2b82805a18.pdf?Expires=1712793600&Signature=LuvApBS6VWIxKqgcvNbPpQV2zJocxqpe6sRwTjmt9RQGbJlVzxL-imp140CsACxPw3MMaqKp%7ESSjzDs48epNTeBZIVWdN3WWzM2xBA09s7gkiewYxWb7TFbCjo8jrDiz4xYpmt0mwc1OOTUOEoeHKNiJiC2nMUImmzlolfL7NS%7E1apZ%7EYT98NHsCojaURfjw6d9JuFlcgcRYTCClOmmkwTUVTipJjAWgNjLX6SuHI43KDazHerdfnPue0aGLZVAR9ru7Ep%7EJfy2sQpBMXGmVsheIJXbp7KgvObThIJA-fAs6YYz-CwP52%7EvwkcDBLDGlFqBm0kGu%7ENhf7ItsS1bwlw__&Key-Pair-Id=K6UGZS9ZTDSZM
3d5fad3dc37d2c701f1c732bb4934d08
PDF Text
Text
«rO
\ J
PSYCHE
TO
Mother Earth.
BY
FRANCES ROSE MACKINLEY.
ARTH, my BELOVED MOTHER !
Prone upon you I prostrate myself;
I imprint you with earnest kisses ;
With awful wonder, I love, revere,
adore you.
How beholden am I to your spirit,
That you enable me to apprehend your entity ;
You, so near, so familiar to me ;
That with my psychic vision clarified,
Looking lucidly through my physical eyes,
You empower me to recognize you ;
Presential, breathing, palpitating, living !
You, the concrete, primogenial source of life.
�PSYCHE TO MOTHER EARTH.
What delight to hear your mystic voice,
To catch with clairaudient sense the latency
Of your multisonous mobility,
Your myriad and varied tones
Reverberating musically in my ears !
What boundless satisfaction
To cognize the subjective analogies
Of your elemental language !
(I am one of your living ideographic words.)
What spontaneous delight
To be able to respond to you,
In all your diversified forms of expression,
To your repercussive intonations,
Or your mellifluous whisperings—
Mother, I understand !
flow beautiful you are, O mother !
Every day I gaze fascinated and enraptured
On your athletic, brunonian body,
Outstretched, nude and lethargic ;
Your legs, massive, plump, symmetrical ;
Your bosoms luxurious, redundant;
Your wistful, luscious face,
With pensive, languishing, hazel eyne.
Ever serenely, quiescently you repose,
Basking bewitchingly your bared charms
In the searching and amative regards
�3
PSYCHE TO MOTHER EARTH.
Of your transcendent lover, the Sun.
How resplendently your flesh glistens,
Bathed in the dazzling scintillations
Of his sensuous, magnetic presence !
The beauty of your sons and daughters
Is but a faint similitude
Of your immaculate loveliness.
How loving you are, O mother !
My present existence and daily continuance
Manifest your provident love ;
That you will take this wondrous body
You
have
lent
my
spirit,
to
your
warm
embrace,
To more intimately assimilate its particles,
What evincement of love !
That you have oft incarnated my spirit,
And with, love sent me forth from you,
And, with as great love, recalled
My material personality to your bosom,
To be fondled and afterward resent,
What supereminent proofs of love !
I have noted you, endeared mother !
In daily coition with your lover, the Sun.
I have watched his gorgeous masculinity,
K
In lustful intermutation with you ;
!........... ——---------------------
�//.
PSYCHE TO MOTHER EARTH.
Embalming you in the luminous beams
Of his effulgent thermodic halo.
How much you seemed to glory,
To exult and revel in his caress !
I glory with you in your delectation,
And in the good he imparts to you.
Without his embrace, you would perish,
Even as I, your daughter, would expire
Without the contactual suscitation of my lovers.
I have seen you also, O wanton mother!
Surfeited of your lover’s dalliance,
Antagonistic, repellant of his desire.
O I too have been satiated
With the aphrodisaic carnality
Of my Priapian paramours !
From gentle encounters with you,
And tempered orgasms in your embrace,
I have seen his passion rousing
Into glowing and rampant salacity ;
Till he impended over you exacerbated
To the very ultimity of heat.
I have seen you shrinkingly recoil,
When his vehement afilation,
Simoon-like, effumed upon you,
And his rapacious arms,
Ignifluous annulars,
Compressed you impactly
�PSYCHE TO MOTHER EARTH.
5
To his lascivient and candescent body;
Whilst into your womb he extruded
.His ebullient, geyser-jet semen.
You were feverous, chafed, wincing, aglow ;
Torrified by his scortatory passion.
I deemed that you must expire ; '
And should your vitality cease, O mother !
How could your children survive !
One day, in the sultry month of July,
As I reclined on your hot breast,
Murmuring words of condolence
To you, poor suffering mother !
We were startled
by thundering
rumblings
in the West.
Looking thitherward, I descried
Huge cumuli overtopping the horizon.
Instantaneously you exclaimed :
“ O rejoice with me, my children !
“ He comes, He, my redemptive lover,
“ He, for whom I have been sighing,
“ He, whom I now need for rescue,
“ He, who only can relieve me ! ”
Then, revealed to my wonderment,
I beheld your lover, awe-compelling,
Black, colossal, cyclopean, vast,
�6
PSYCHE TO MOTHER EARTH.
Stalking majestically in the heavens,
His terrific shadow overdarkening the skies,
And tenebrously enveloping you;
His frowning browns portentously lowering ;
His
gigantic
bulk equipendent
in
the
mid
welkin.
Inflated with generant vigor,
Dissilient with desire for you,
He fulmines thunderous lustful threats.
With foretaste of delight, O mother !
You trembled at his lecherous menaces,
And with upthrown arms,
Enrounding your retroverted head,
Anxious, impatient, eager,
You slightly disparted your thighs,
And gently upraised your abdomen,
In longing preparedness to receive him.
With thought exceeding instantaneity
His phallic lightning strokes
Reiteratedly penetrate your genetalia.
Negative, receptive mother !
As his invigorating love lymph
Emulged upon you in lavish profluence ;
Your eyes closed as in serene ectasy.
Your
countenance
exuberated
with
renewed
life,
Your quickened orbs ■ looked up lovingly,
�PSYCIIE TO MOTHER EARTH.
Every freshened pore responsively dilated,
Your lips tremulously articulated, thanks.
Love-sick, languishing, despairing,
I, your daughter, with trepid sighs,
Long for a reciprocal love mate,
Whose electric influence and embrace
.*
Will be to me, as was your savior to you,
Solace, reviviscence, ecstasy !
With wearied body, o’erspent and drooping,
Sore, wounded feet, swollen with travel,
From bootless chase of unattainableness,
I seek refuge in your maternity.
I clasp my arms around your neck.
Let me nestle my weighted head
Cosily ’twixt your lenitive mammoe !
In this delicious harborage,
Let me uninterruptedly repose ! J
Let me find there, long enduring rest ;
Till, through your kindly assuagement,
The perturbation within me is allayed !
Let me subside into sedative slumbers,
Calming to my insatiate heart;
To waken, comforted, composed, ductile,
7
�g
PSYCHE TO MOTHER EARTH.
Prompt to obey your dehortations,
Assured that to question your teachings,
Or ignore your prescient admonitions,
Must be to constantly return to you afflicted,
To abide in embroilment and inquietude !
Make me
Placid, compliant, resigned, passive,
As you are, O Infinite Parent !
Animate me with your own essentiality !
Are you thus,
Placid, compliant, resigned, passive,
Thus beatifically accordant with events ;
Since to you belongs the cognition
Of the mysterious purpose of all that is ?
O let me, thro’ your inspiration,
Attain some definite discernment
Of the subtle intent of existence ;
Some positive hint of certitude,
More than the discontinuous clairvoyance,
Whereby I glimpse scintillas of truth,
With ever intervenient periods
Of dubiety, and its consequent despondence !
Your sensuous, voluptuous breath
Respiring balmily over me,
Convulses
me with titillative tremors.
The semblance of lascivious abandon,
�PSYCHE TO MOTHER EARTH.
9
Ascendant in your mien and bearing,
Spells and ecstasizes my spirit.
The aroma of your wantonness
Materializes into living forms of beauty :
Vital, substantive, efflorescent virtues ;
Whence in turn exhales a quality
Gossamery, subtile, insinuative ;
An impalpable emication,
Invisible, but sensate to your children,
In irresistibly seductive allurements
To languor, desire, love, worship, coition.
O in this luscious magnetism—
The life incitement of your children—
Is there not revealed the aim of Being ?
O from this mystic adumbration,
Have I not apprehended the purport of ex
istence ?
Expand my soul, O mother !
To a lasciviousness akin to yours ;
That I also may give exoteric form
To the fullness of like voluptuousness,
And by a consummate shapeliness
Incite, as you do, love, worship, adoration !
Make me, as you are, bold, free, cosmopolite,
Accessible, nonchalant, unbosoming !
You, ever love environing your children,
�10
PSYCHE TO MOTHER EARTH.
Coulcl they but clairvoyantlv see you 1
Make me, as you are, communicant,
\
Outspoken, fluent, colloquial, eloquent !
Your voice, ever speaking to your children,
Could they but clairaudiently hear you !
Make me just, intrusive, assertive as you !
We,
children,
your
feel
this
fictile, plastic
force ;
This charactery, whereby you express yourself,
Acting within ourselves and about us,
To fashion the physical and metaphysical ;
But
how
few divine
in it, your immanent
presence !
Make me negative, receptive as you !
Because of these feminine attributes,
You are transcendently a divine mother.
Promiscuous, all-embracing, all-loving,
All-inclusive, universal mother !
Impress me with your catholicness,
That I may reimpress all humanity,
With such assimilative consciousness
Of the opulence and divinity of those attributes,
That your sons and daughters will all emulate
The similitude of you in me,
And with one ecumenic purpose, exclaim :
Let us strive to resemble our mother ! ”
�
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
Victorian Blogging
Description
An account of the resource
A collection of digitised nineteenth-century pamphlets from Conway Hall Library & Archives. This includes the Conway Tracts, Moncure Conway's personal pamphlet library; the Morris Tracts, donated to the library by Miss Morris in 1904; the National Secular Society's pamphlet library and others. The Conway Tracts were bound with additional ephemera, such as lecture programmes and handwritten notes.<br /><br />Please note that these digitised pamphlets have been edited to maximise the accuracy of the OCR, ensuring they are text searchable. If you would like to view un-edited, full-colour versions of any of our pamphlets, please email librarian@conwayhall.org.uk.<br /><br /><span><img src="http://www.heritagefund.org.uk/sites/default/files/media/attachments/TNLHLF_Colour_Logo_English_RGB_0_0.jpg" width="238" height="91" alt="TNLHLF_Colour_Logo_English_RGB_0_0.jpg" /></span>
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Conway Hall Library & Archives
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
2018
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
Conway Hall Ethical Society
Text
A resource consisting primarily of words for reading. Examples include books, letters, dissertations, poems, newspapers, articles, archives of mailing lists. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre Text.
Original Format
The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data
Pamphlet
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
Psyche to mother earth
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Mackinley, Frances Rose
Description
An account of the resource
Place of publication: [s.l.]
Collation: 10 p. ; 19 cm.
Notes: From the library of Dr Moncure Conway. A poem. Text bordered in red.
Publisher
An entity responsible for making the resource available
[s.n.]
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
{187-?]
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
G5310
Subject
The topic of the resource
Poetry
Spiritualism
Women's rights
Rights
Information about rights held in and over the resource
<a href="http://creativecommons.org/publicdomain/mark/1.0/"><img src="http://i.creativecommons.org/p/mark/1.0/88x31.png" alt="Public Domain Mark" /></a><span> </span><br /><span>This work (Psyche to mother earth), identified by </span><a href="https://conwayhallcollections.omeka.net/items/show/www.conwayhall.org.uk"><span>Humanist Library and Archives</span></a><span>, is free of known copyright restrictions.</span>
Format
The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource
application/pdf
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Text
Language
A language of the resource
English
American
Conway Tracts
Mother Goddess
Poetry
Poetry in English
Spiritualism
Women's Rights
Women's Rights-United States