May 30, 1893
by John Kendrick Bangs (1862-1922) |
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It seemed to be but chance, yet who shall say
That
't was not part of Nature's own sweet way,
That on
the field where once the cannon's breath
Laid many a
hero cold and stark in death,
Some little children,
in the after-years,
Had come to play among the grassy
spears,
And, all unheeding, when their romp was
done,
Had left a wreath of wild flowers over one
Who fought to save his country, and whose lot
It was
to die unknown and rest forgot? |
By John Kendrick Bangs (1862-1922)
Listed November 10, 2012 |
|
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