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Wide is the world, and many a voice.

Invites us to the prize;

Fame with his clarion notes, and War
Invites where patriot dies:

And fairy Fancies call, and high

The stars of Glory rise.

Into the depths of life's great sea

We plunge, and on its waves
We ride o'er sunken hopes, and see
Their wintry, watery graves.

IX.

The halos 'round our youthful heads
Soon vanish into air;

And all the clustering laurels fall

That we had gathered there. Then on the dusty road of life,

Some went to earn a name;
And long they sat beneath, and conned
The finger-board of Fame.

The path they took to right or left,
To them was all the same;

The one who reached, and he who failed,
Soon found what Tappan said:

Is hunger of the soul, and wailed

At last for heavenly bread.

X.

The star of Glory too doth pass
Before our waiting eyes,
Like falling meteor seen awhile,

Then on the vision dies:

And all the Fancies of our youth

Now wreathe the brows of Fact; Who stubborn stood upon the road, And bid us dare to act:

While he the coward struck with blade,
And him who virtue lacked.

He bid us reap in life's great field,
And harvest home the sheaves;
For Autumn comes at last, to strew
Our paths with withered leaves.'

XI.

And War hath called, and many went
The Nation's flag to save.

In honor all we stand, but some
Adorn the patriot's grave.
They answered to the bugle's call
And to their country's prayer.

Now at their graves we sadly meet

And lay the garland there,

Wreathed by a classmate's hands in love, And with a soldier's care.

Brave children they, who went to die
Upon their country's breast,
And sleeping there, in glory lie
Within her arms at rest.

XII.

Dear class of Fifty-Eight, clasp hands,
And with the warm, firm grip
Of friendship, let the old wine of
Thirty years touch the lip.

Here are we met, mellowed with age
And ripened to the core;
Again to part; perchance to meet
When life's brief work is o'er,

With those who passed its boundaries
To some Arcadian shore;
Perhaps within that realm unknown

To find life's better part;

If not, Hope dying shall condone
This token of the heart.

OLD CAPTAIN SUMPTER.

THE following poem was recited at the camp fire on the evening before the unveiling of the soldiers' monument at Mound City, October 24, 1889. Governor L. U. Humphrey, to whom the poem is dedicated, received the original manuscript. Captain Sumpter died suddenly, while telling his little grandson about the war. He was a member of the military order of the Loyal Legion.

66

Grandpa," said little Sam, as he came in From play, "were you a soldier of the war? And did you stick to Uncle Sam and win?

And did you get that great, long, ugly scar Upon your face by standing to your colors true, While you did march, and fight, and wear the soldier's blue?"

"Why do you ask?" said Sumpter old and gray; "Come to my side, my boy, and tell me why Such thoughts as these do thus disturb your play?" And as he spoke there stood within his eye A trembling tear, which sparkling shone like morning dew;

"Why do you ask about the war, and those who wore the blue?"

66

"Because," said little Sam, "we boys play war; We drum, and march and fight with wooden guns; And then our captain wears a shining star,

And says: Be brave! the man is killed who runs!

Stand to your colors like a Union volunteer!' And when the enemy is hit and falls we cheer!

"And then you know, on Decoration days,

The pretty girls do come with flowers to strew The graves of soldiers dead, and rich bouquets They tie with ribbons—red and white and blue, The colors of this button here in your lapel, – And place them on the grassy mounds of those who fell."

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The tear then dropped, and fell on Sammy's brow; But the soldier's eyes were fixed upon the sky, And wore a dreamy look, as if somehow

To scenes of other years-to days gone byHis thought had turned entranced, and lingering far away,

On things grown old perhaps, but not to him grown gray.

"Yes, my lad," he then began, "hear me now:
When Sumpter fell I saw my flag go down;
I saw the patriot blood on Ellsworth's brow,
Which now immortal wreaths of glory crown;
And as he tore the traitor's flag I saw him fall,
Then as a voice from heaven I heard my country

call.

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