Poet: C. C. Hassler
On the veteran's honored brow.
God keep them long amid home and friends,
And may their declining years
Be warmed by the sunshine of love and care
That will banish all pain and tears.
Where are the Old Grand Army Boys?
Will be asked in the years to come;
When no column of blue will again be seen,
To follow the fife and drum.
But the answer borne on the breezes soft;
Will whisper, in requiem low;
They are gone, but the nation lives for which
They fought, in long years ago.
And the old flag waves o'er a people proud,
And the memories keep alive;
The deeds of valor that crown the boys.
Of sixty-one to sixty-five.
And the generation yet unborn.
Will whisper the name with pride
As they point to the silent graves of those,
Who for freedom once fought and died;
Not, the freedom that boasts of the men who stood
And defied our nation's laws.
And with bloody hands for four long years,
Fought to uphold a traitor's cause;
But to the loyal men such as we revere,
Men to flag and nation true.
Whose last breath prayed for a Union saved,
Neath the Glorious Red, White and Blue.
"Our thanks to our veterans for their dedication,
bravery, and their willingness to protect all of us."
Thank You Veteran Poems
Poet: Catherine Pulsifer
We can never feel what they felt
With guns in their hands as they knelt
They lived the horrors of war
So all would have peace once more.
We can only imagine the feelings they had
Fighting for freedom, many a young lad
We owe them so much, we owe them an honor
As fighting in a war is the worse kind of monster.
So may we never forget, and teach our children too
The debt of gratitude to those who fought, for me and you
Lest we forget, we never will
The men and women who fought and those who were killed.
We stop, we remember, and we give thanks
For men and women in the ranks
A debt of gratitude we owe
May it always show.
Gratitude Poems
by John McCrae
In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie,
In Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.
We wear the blood red poppy, the pipes play the lament,
We pause for just a moment, the message has been sent:
"Lest we forget," it beckons, lest we have fought in vain,
Remember! Oh, Remember! Lest we face war again!"
Greta Zwaan
Poet: C. C. Hassler
While pray'rs ascend and tears are shed,
And nations pay to honored dead.
Their tributes to his fame.
We'll weave our roses in a crown
And lay them sadly, gently down,
A wreath of immortelles to live,
And fadeless, in all ages give.
Bright lustre to his name.
Where mountain peaks blend northern skies,
Or where 'neath southlands balmy skies
The sweet magnolias bloom;
In all the land each loyal heart
Will share a patriot's loving part.
And joined in tears as one will lay
Our gift — a Nation's Love — today
Upon his silent tomb.
Farewell — old loyal comrade — when
The perfume of sweet flowers again
Bright spring-times breezes swell;
We'll think of thee with reverent thought,
And bless the work thy hands have wrought.
Farewell, God's will, not ours, be done,
Life's battles o'er, the victory won.
Farewell — a last Farewell.
Appreciation Poems
Poet: Lillian E. Curtis
Blessed day, singled from the rest,
By memory's pure test,
To wreathe the soldier's graves!
Strew floral gifts where they lie.
For surely God's eye
Looks down upon you who kindly and true
Remember your country's braves;
May Memory's laurels fondly enclose
Graves where the lov'd ones calmly repose:
On this beauteous sunny soil,
Where many a Southern gem doth coil
Round that fair memorial spot, the noble soldier's burying lot.
Where the Southern sunbeams shine.
You, these floral tokens twine:
Wreathe with a tender thought and with a tear.
The graves of those so loved and dear.
Poet: Caleb Davis Bradlee
Of dear ones true we sing,
Who died our peace to bring,
And save the land!
Land to our souls most dear.
Land freed from pride and fear,
Unto all hearts so near,
By God's command.
We praise, this day, the brave
Who did the union save,
And give us light!
We like their names to tell,
Names that we love so well,
That leave a holy spell,
Quite sweet and bright.
We spread abroad our song,
As memories round us throng
Of those we love!
Those who gave up their life,
And mingled in the strife,
And were in courage rife,
Now gone above.
God, our loved ones keep,
Whilst we on earth do weep,
And miss their face!
Keep them in glory sound,
Keep them on holy ground,
Let all the angels round
Thy mercy trace.
Christian Poems
Poet: Ella Wheeler Wilcox
'Tis not the untried soldier new to danger
Who fears to enter into active strife.
Amidst the roll of drums, the cannon's rattle,
He craves adventure, and thinks not of life.
But the scarred veteran knows the price of glory,
He does not court the conflict or the fray.
He has no longing to rehearse that gory
And most dramatic act, of war's dark play.
He who to love has always been a stranger,
All unafraid may linger in your spell.
My heart has known the warfare, and its danger.
It craves no repetition — so farewell.
Poet: Ralph Waldo Emerson
Stainless soldier on the walls,
Knowing this — and knows no more:
Whoever fights, whoever falls,
Justice conquers evermore;
And he who battles on her side,
God, though he were ten times slain.
Crowns him victor glorified, -
Victor over death and pain
Forever.
Poems about Peace
Poet: Catherine Pulsifer
Never take our Veterans for granted still,
Ignoring their sacrifices here;
Let us remember them with will
And hold gratitude through the years.
Their courage and bravery should not go unnoticed;
Many gave their lives to protect;
So may we never take freedoms granted
But thank veterans with love and respect.
Respect Poems
Poet: Frank Earl Herrick
Old soldiers, over thee
The flag is floating free
And full of stars;
Proud of the noble band
That gave it to our land,
Preserved by valor's hand
And battle scars!
In smoke and flame it flew
Above the hosts of blue
On fields of war;
Through treason's iron rain
You bore it without stain
Upon the crimson plain
In days of yore!
Your heads are whitened now
And time upon your brow
Has left its trace,
And slower now your tread
Than when the charge was led
And Freedom's foemen fled
Before your face!
Yet in your matchless eye
As the thinned lines go by
We see the gleam
And spirit as of old
When clouds of conflict rolled
To keep the starry fold
Without a seam!
In gratitude and love
Pure as the stars above
This day we keep
For men the world reveres,
For those who live, our cheers.
And a great nation's tears
For those who sleep!
Poet: David V. Bush
Each great reform must have its men,
Those who have strength and mighty power;
No weakling ever led the ranks,
When hard the way and dark the hour.
We honor men and applaud them, too,
Who bear the thickest of the brunt,
The ones with souls and courage strong
Aye, strong enough to bear the blunt.
To those who brave the storm and stress
Advance reforms no matter what
The world owes all her song and praise,
But sometimes they are soon forgot.
Let us not cease to do our best,
No matter what the price or cost,
When duty calls or times demand,
Atho' our noble cause is lost.
It may be lost in our short day,
But if the cause be just and right,
Long after we are mouldering dead,
The doubly blind shall have their sight.
Be not dismayed who lead the ranks,
Tho' rough and stormy be the way,
If ye are cursed and oft misjudged,
Your cause shall surely win some day.
