Although this poem was initially written in memory of the author's fellow
soldiers from Kentucky who died in the Mexican-American War of 1846-1848,
its powerful words still speak to us today of all the many soldiers and veterans
who have courageously fought and gave their lives for this country so that
Americans could remain a free and independent people.
The muffled drum's sad roll has beat
The soldier's last tattoo!
No more on life's parade shall meet
The brave and fallen few.
On Fame's eternal camping ground
Their silent tents are spread,
And glory guards with solemn round
The bivouac of the dead.
No rumor of the foe's advance
Now swells upon the wind,
Nor troubled thought of midnight haunts,
Of loved ones left behind;
No vision of the morrow's strife
The warrior's dreams alarms,
No braying horn or screaming fife
At dawn to call to arms.
Their shivered swords are red with rust,
Their plumed heads are bowed,
Their haughty banner, trailed in dust,
Is now their martial shroud-
And plenteous funeral tears have washed
The red stains from each brow,
And the proud forms by battle gashed
Are free from anguish now.
The neighboring troop, the flashing blade,
The bugle's stirring blast,
The charge,-the dreadful cannonade,
The din and shout, are passed;
Nor war's wild notes, nor glory's peal
Shall thrill with fierce delight
Those breasts that nevermore shall feel
The rapture of the fight.
Like the fierce Northern hurricane
That sweeps the great plateau,
Flushed with the triumph yet to gain,
Come down the serried foe,
Who heard the thunder of the fray
Break o'er the field beneath,
Knew the watchword of the day
Was "Victory or death!"
Rest on, embalmed and sainted dead,
Dear is the blood you gave-
No impious footstep here shall tread
The herbage of your grave.
Nor shall your glory be forgot
While Fame her record keeps,
Or honor points the hallowed spot
Where valor proudly sleeps.
You marble minstrel's voiceless stone
In deathless song shall tell,
When many a vanquished year hath flown,
The story how you fell.
Nor wreck nor change, nor winter's blight,
Nor time's remorseless doom,
Can dim one ray of holy light
That gilds your glorious tomb.
"The Bivouac Of The Dead"
(1850)
Theodore O'Hara
(1820-1867)
American poet and veteran of the Mexican-American War
and the American Civil War where he served as a colonel
for the Confederacy.
"The Bivouac Of The Dead" increased in popularity after the Civil War,
and its verses have since been featured on many memorials to fallen
soldiers of the Confederacy in the southern states. Lines from this
poem can also be found on monuments and at the gateway of
Arlington National Cemetery in Arlington, Virginia.
May God bless and protect all our soldiers and veterans on this special day.
And may those who now sleep in death may you rest in eternal peace.
"Dear is the blood you gave."
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