Articles
Memorial Day
May 30, observed in the United States in commemoration of those members of the armed forces killed in war.
It is officially observed on the last Monday in May. Also Called Decoration Day. (The American Heritage Dictionary)
Below are poems clipped long ago from some 1900s Virginia newspapers:
So Long, Mother
Oh Mother, dear, a little tear,
Is gleaming in your eye;
Your lips are alla tremble
As you hear me say, "Goodbye."
The Stars and Stripes are calling now
On every mother's boy.
From Main to dear old Dixie
They shoulder arms with joy.
Chorus
So long, my dear old lady, don't you cry
Just kiss your grownup baby boy goodbye.
Somewhere in France, I'll be dreaming of you,
You and your dear eyes of blue -
Come let me see you smile before we part,
I'll throw a kiss to cheer your dear old heart.
Dry the tear in your eye, don't you sigh, don't you cry.
So long, Mother, kiss your boy goodbye.
Oh Mother, dear, each volunteer,
Must say goodbye today;
Some leave a love who may forget When he has marched away.
But I leave one who'll not forget,
That's why I'm mighty glad;
For you're the only sweetheart
That I have ever had.
Author unknown
Captain Jinks
I'm Captain Jinks of the Horse Marines;
I feed my horse on corn and beans,
And sport your ladies in their teens,
Though a captain in the army.
I teach young ladies how to dance,
How to dance, How to danc,
I teach young ladies how to dance
For I'm the pet of the army.
Chorus
Captain Jinks of the Horse marines;
I feed my horse on corn and beans,
And often live beyond my means,
Though a captain in the army.
I joined my corps when twenty-one,
Of course I thought it capital fun;
When the enemy came, of course, I'd run,
For I'm not cut out for the army.
When I left home, mamma she cried,
Mamma she cried; mamma she cried,
When I left home, mamma she cried:
"He's not cut out for the army."
Chorus
The first time I went out to drill,
The bugle sounding made me ill;
Of the battlefield I'd had my fill,
For I'm not cut out for the army.
The officers, they all did shout,
They all did shout, they all did shout,
The officers, they all did shout,
"Why, kick him out of the army!"
Chorus
Author unknown
The Dying Soldier
The sun was sinking in the west and fell with lingering ray
Through the branches of a forest, where a wounded soldier lay.
'Neath the shades of the palmetto, 'neath the southern sultry sky,
Far from his New England home they laid him down to die.
A group was gathered 'round him, his comrades of the fight;
A tear coursed cown each manly cheek as they bade him a last good night;
One dear friend and companion was kneeling by his side
And strove to staunch his lifeblood, but it was in vain he tried.
He thought upon the future, but his thoughts were all in vain
While from his loved companions the tears flowed down like rain.
"Comrades," spoke the dying soldier, "comrades weep no more for me;
I am crossing the dark river, beyond where all is free."
"Come gather 'round me, comrades; I have something I would say;
I've a story I would tell you 'ere my life-blood ebbs away.
Far away in loved New England, in that dear old Pine Tar State,
There is one who for my coming with a saddened heart will wait.
"A fair and young girl, my sister, my joyand only pride,
My love and care from boyhood, for I've none on earth beside;
My mother she is sleeping beneath the churchyard sod,
And 'tis many, many years since her spirit went to God.
"My father, too, is sleeping beneath the dark blue sea,
And I have no realtives - only Nell and me.
But, comrades, I am dying; I shall never see her more;
She will vainly wait my coming at our little cottage door.
"When our country was in danger and called for volunteers
She threw her arms around my neck and burst into tears,
Saying: "Go, my loving brother, I cannot bid you stay,
But from our dear old homestead I will wait you day by day.
But, comrades, I am dying; she will never see me more:
She will vainly wait my coming at our little cottage door.
"Come, gather closer, comrades; listen to my dying prayer,
Who will be a brother to her - a brother, shield her with a brother's care?"
The soldiers spoke together; like one voice it seemed to fall:
"We will be to her as brothers, and protect her one and all."
A shade of reddish brightness o'er his marble visage spread;
He gave one convulsive shudder and the soldier boy was dead.
By the banks of the Potomac they have laid him down to rest,
With his napsack for a pillow and his rifle on his breast.
Author unknown
The Vacant Chair
We shall meet, but we shall miss him,
There will be one vacant chair;
We shall linger to caress him
While we breathe our evening prayer.
When a year ago we gathered,
Joy was in his mild blue eye,
But a golden cord is severed,
And our hopes in ruin lie.
At our fireside sad and lonely,
Often will our bosom swell
At remembrance of the story
How our noble Willie fell;
How he strove to bear our banner
Thro' the thickest of the fight,
And uphold our country's honor,
In the strength of manhood's might.
True they tell us wreaths of glory
Ever more will deck his brow,
This this soothes the anquish only
Sweeping o'er our heartstrings now.
Sleep today, O early fallen,
In they green and narrow bed,
Dirges from the pine and cypress
Mingle with the tears we shed.
Author unknown
