WHEN the May has culled her flowers for the summer waiting long, And the breath of early roses woos the hedges into song, Comes the throb of martial music and the banners in the street, And the marching of the millions bearing garlands fair and sweet -- 'Tis the Sabbath of the Nation, 'tis the floral feast of May! In remembrance of our heroes We keep Memorial Day. They are sleeping in the valleys, they are sleeping 'neath the sea, They are sleeping by the thousands till the royal reveille; Let us know them, let us name them, let us honor one and all, For they loved us and they saved us, springing at the bugle call; Let us sound the song and cymbal, wreathe the immortelles and bay. In the fervor of thanksgiving We keep Memorial Day. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE PLOUGHMAN by OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES THE SHEPHEARDES CALENDER: OCTOBER by EDMUND SPENSER THE SAD MOTHER by KATHARINE TYNAN INVITATION by JOHANNA AMBROSIUS TO RALPH LEYCESTER, ESQ., IN ANSWER TO A LETTER by JOHN BYROM ELEGIAC STANZAS ON THE DEATH OF SIR PETER PARKER, BART. by GEORGE GORDON BYRON |