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| NOW are the centenary days unrolled, On whose swift round a Nation's theme is told- Our Chieftain chosen with a land's acclaim, With civic wreath encircling martial fame - In fealty our love's deep proffer made, Our debt to Washington in flushed hearts paid. But while that name, in life renascent reigns, One duty lives - one echoing void remains, In shadow of Virginia's valley dim, Where she was wont to muse - to dream of him, Lies low the heart that all his pulsing shared, Throbbed in his hopes, in pains and perils dared; - The mother, whose unnoted scenes were done When far-off paeans were sounding for the son. 1 A hundred Springs have waked the glad'ning ground, And Autumns thrown their radiant cinctures round; Yet we, insensate, yield not fruitful care, While winds have planted weeds and wild flowers there. 0, heirs of him, bequeathed a ransomed Land, Repay that life's rich meed with filial hand; No more remiss in memory of the dead, Who sleeps by lonely Rappahannock's Bed; Set forth the Obelisk of a century's thought - Redeem that Vale where War's red deeds were wrought; Let brothers' blood that full her soil baptized, Blent in her mound, be fused and crystallized; Deep in her shrine amid the meadows sere, In living lines serene as her, and clear, Chisel that word above the chastened breast, With shining love reluming shrouded rest - "Mary, Mother of our Washington, lies here!" |
| THE BATTLE OF SHIRLEY STRAIT | CONTENTS | THE MARTYR LIBERATOR |
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