(To have been read before the statue of Lafayette and Washington
Paris, on Decoration Day,
May 30, 1916.) Ay, it is fitting on this holiday, Commemorative of our soldier dead, When—with sweet flowers of our New England May Hiding the lichened stones by fifty years made gray— Their graves in every town are garlanded, That pious tribute should be given too To our intrepid few Obscurely fallen here beyond their seas. Those to preserve their country's greatness died; But by the death of these Something that we can look upon with pride Has been achieved, nor wholly unreplied Can sneerers triumph in the charge they make That from a war where Freedom was at stake America withheld and, daunted, stood aside.
II Be they remembered here with each reviving spring, Not only that in May, when life is loveliest, Around Neuville-Saint-Vaast and the disputed crest Of Vimy, they, superb, unfaltering, In that fine onslaught that no fire could halt, Parted impetuous to their first assault; But that they brought fresh hearts and springlike too To that high mission, and 'tis meet to strew With twigs of lilac and spring's earliest rose The cenotaph of those Who in the cause that history most endears Fell in the sunny morn and flower of their young years.
II Yet sought they neither recompense nor praise, Nor to be mentioned in another breath Than their blue-coated comrades whose great days It was their pride to share—ay, share even to the death! Nay, rather,
France, to you they rendered thanks (Seeing they came for honour, not for gain), Who, opening to them your glorious ranks, Gave them that grand occasion to excel, That chance to live the life most free from stain And that rare privilege of dying well.
IV O friends!
I know not since that war began From which no people nobly stands aloof If in all moments we have given proof Of virtues that were thought American. I know not if in all things done and said All has been well and good, Or of each one of us can hold his head As proudly as he should, Or, from the pattern of those mighty dead Whose shades our country venerates to-day, If we 've not somewhat fallen and somewhat gone astray, But you to whom our land's good name is dear, If there be any here Who wonder if her manhood be decreased, Relaxed its sinews and its blood less red Than that at Shiloh and Antietam shed, Be proud of these, have joy in this at least, And cry: `Now heaven be praised That in that hour that most imperilled her, Menaced her liberty who foremost raised Europe's bright flag of freedom, some there were Who, not unmindful of the antique debt, Came back the generous path of Lafayette; And when of a most formidable foe She checked each onset, arduous to stem— Foiled and frustrated them— On those red fields where blow with furious blow Was countered, whether the gigantic fray Rolled by the Meuse or at the Bois Sabot, Accents of ours were in the fierce mêlée; And on those furthest rims of hallowed ground Where the forlorn, the gallant charge expires, When the slain bugler has long ceased to sound, And on the tangled wires The last wild rally staggers, crumbles, stops, Withered beneath the shrapnel's iron showers:— Now heaven be thanked, we gave a few brave drops; Now heaven be thanked, a few brave drops were ours.'V There, holding still, in frozen steadfastness, Their bayonets toward the beckoning frontiers, They lie—our comrades—lie among their peers, Clad in the glory of fallen warriors, Grim clustered under thorny trellises, Dry, furthest foam upon disastrous shores, Leaves that made last year beautiful, still strewn Even as they fell, unchanged, beneath the changing moon; And earth in her divine indifference Rolls on, and many paltry things and mean Prate to be heard and caper to be seen. But they are silent, clam; their eloquence Is that incomparable attitude; No human presences their witness are, But summer clouds and sunset crimson-hued, And showers and night winds and the northern star Nay, even our salutations seem profane, Opposed to their Elysian quietude; Our salutations calling from afar, From our ignobler plane And undistinction of our lesser parts: Hail, brothers, and farewell; you are twice blest, brave hearts. Double your glory is who perished thus, For you have died for France and vindicated us.
Composition date is unknown - the above date represents the first publication date.
Form: couplets, triplets, and quatrains.1.
The statue dedicated to the memory of the Marquis de Lafayette(1757-1834),
French general, and George Washington (1732-99),
American president, stands in the Place des Etats-Unis in Paris.
American colony in France invited Seeger to read this poemon May 30, 1916, but official permission for him to go on leave did notarrive in time (Irving Werstein,
Sound no Trumpet:
The Life and Deathof Alan Seeger [New York:
Crowell, 1967], p. 126\;
PS 3537
Z9 Robarts Library), and the poem was only made public posthumously.18.
Neuville-Saint-Vaast: area four miles north of Arras in
Pas de Calais, northern France, the site of much fightingin World War I.19.
Vimy:
In 1915 the Allies stormed Vimy Ridge (near Artois) butfailed to take it: 225,000 lives were lost.53.
Shiloh: battle fought April 6-7, 1862, near Shiloh Church, two milesfrom Pittsburg Landing,
Tennessee, in the American civil war.
Antietam:
Maryland creek where a battle in the American civil warwas fought September 16-17, 1862, near the town of Sharpsburg (for whichthe battle is also named). Meuse: river flowing from northern France
Belgium into the North Sea, near which (e.g., at Verdun inspring 1916) fighting went on for years in World War I.
Bois Sabot: not located.94.
Elysian: the Elysian Fields, dwelling place of thehappy dead in the underworld of classical myth.
