CARRIER'S ADDRESS
29
Our buried years,—who can recall The days that once have fled?Of all our friends they, only they Lie dead among the dead;For them no resurrection morn On earth or heaven shall dawnWhere we have kissed their clay-cold brows, They are forever gone.
Hark! as we muse upon the past, The bells ring loud and clear,The nation welcomes with delight The great Centennial year.The Democratic banner waves Untarnished as of yore;A hundred years lie in its folds, 'T will see a hundred more.Let every heart beat light to-day, And swell with proudest joy;And may no man forget to pay The faithful Carrier Boy.
