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The Blue and The Gray; Francis Finch

By the flow of the inland river,
Whence the fleets of iron have fled,
Where the blades of the grave-grass quiver,
Asleep are the ranks of the dead:
Under the sod and the dew,
Waiting the judgment-day;
Under the one, the Blue,
Under the other, the Gray

These in the robings of glory,
Those in the gloom of defeat,
All with the battle-blood gory,
In the dusk of eternity meet:
Under the sod and the dew,
Waiting the judgement-day
Under the laurel, the Blue,
Under the willow, the Gray.

From the silence of sorrowful hours
The desolate mourners go,
Lovingly laden with flowers
Alike for the friend and the foe;
Under the sod and the dew,
Waiting the judgement-day;
Under the roses, the Blue,
Under the lilies, the Gray.

So with an equal splendor,
The morning sun-rays fall,
With a touch impartially tender,
On the blossoms blooming for all:
Under the sod and the dew,
Waiting the judgment-day;
Broidered with gold, the Blue,
Mellowed with gold, the Gray.

So, when the summer calleth,
On forest and field of grain,
With an equal murmur falleth
The cooling drip of the rain:
Under the sod and the dew,
Waiting the judgment -day,
Wet with the rain, the Blue
Wet with the rain, the Gray.

Sadly, but not with upbraiding,
The generous deed was done,
In the storm of the years that are fading
No braver battle was won:
Under the sod adn the dew,
Waiting the judgment-day;
Under the blossoms, the Blue,
Under the garlands, the Gray

No more shall the war cry sever,
Or the winding rivers be red;
They banish our anger forever
When they laurel the graves of our dead!
Under the sod and the dew,
Waiting the judgment-day,
Love and tears for the Blue,
Tears and love for the Gray.

 
I chose it because i like the story it tells. It says (in my head) that we where fighting, we disagreed but in the end their was no real win. We all felt the backlash, not just the south. There is no real win because an entire half of our country was unhappy and anger, how can you celebrate that? Obviously the end of slavery was a good thing, but the poem is also saying that we should’ve found an ulterior route. Fighting is never the answer. “Fighting fire with fire, only burns you.” I also picked it because it sounds cool.
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Posted by on November 16, 2011 in Civil War Poetry

 

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Russian’s “Praise” To Their King (And Country)

Боже, Царя храни!
Сильный, державный,
Царствуй на славу нам;
Царствуй на страх врагам,
Царь православный!
Боже, Царя храни

Or…

God Save the Tsar!
A strong, sovereign,
Reign in glory to us;
Reign in fear of our enemies,
King of the Orthodox!
God Save the Tsar

I believe that the Tsar is (was?) their “king” and that was their song (oath, pledge, hymn, etc..) to honor him and their country.

 
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Posted by on August 28, 2011 in Pledges

 

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