Poems (Howard)/At Half mast
At Half Mast.
No joyful song is mine to-day Because at early morning, That solemn bell not far away Pealed forth its dreadful warning; And through my heart a shudder went For by arrangement given, That General Grant—the signal meant— Had passed from earth to Heaven.
Then, later, down the street I passed So sad—almost to crying—For all around me at half mast The " stripes and stars" were flying; And friendly faces that I sought Were signs of sorrow wearing—That is, all who in kindly thought Are our dead hero bearing.
For some will scoff instead of sigh, And wickedly upbraid him—But there are those who would defy And curse the God who made him; And some beside his bier will crave A place, and round him hover Who—ghouls, and heartless!—from the grave Would tear its sacred cover.
O, shame! for aye throughout the land Let theirs he detestation, Who would have manacled the hand Of him who saved the nation; On his high tower how harmless fall Alike reproach and slander, While deeds of war and peace recall The worth of our commander.
Then wheresoever, o'er the world, The name of "Grant" is spoken, Let flags half-masted be unfurled As grief's expressive token; For naught to him are honors now Which, through the years, have crowned him, Who lies upon the mountain brow His banner wrapped around him.
O let us hope, from his far height The blessed fields Elysian, The Promised Land appeared in sight And cheered his waning vision. As from McGregor's lonely crest With rev'rent hands we bear him Who knoweth not, in painless rest, How ill the world can spare him.