Henry Lynden Flash Poems

Four stormy years we saw it gleam,
A people's hope…and then refurled,
Even while its glory was the theme
...

Why are we forever speaking
Of the warriors of old?
Men are fighting all around us,
Full as noble, full as bold.
...

First in the fight, and first in the arms
Of the white-winged angels of glory,
With the heart of the South at the feet of God,
...

We are gathered here a feeble few
Of those who wore the gray-
The larger and the better part
Have mingled with the clay:
...

Not 'mid the lightning of the stormy fight,
Not in the rush upon the vandal foes,
Did kingly Death, with his resistless might,
...