The Pilgrimage to Gettysburg
Emily Souder

THEY are coming--they are coming--
A band of saddened men,
To look for graves on hillside,
In valley and in glen.
We see them 'neath the oak tree,
And near the bending corn;
We see them in the fading light,
And in the early morn.

Oh! mournful are the stories
That we gather day by day,
Of those who fought and those who fell
In that long, bloody fray;
And mournful are the daily scenes
That greet the roving eye,
Of mothers sitting near the tent
To see their brave sons die.

More mournful still the sight of those
Who come too late to see
The living face of' kinsmen dear,
Now sleeping silently.
Ah! all untold the longing
For some beloved one's face,
The mother's kiss, the father's voice,
The sister's fond embrace.

A soldier-boy lay in his tent,
As evening's shadows fell,
The seal of death was on his brow,
We saw and knew it well.
We paused to cut one raven lock,
And pluck one oaken leaf;
A stranger's hand could do no more
To soothe a mother's grief.

The wives have left their little ones
In quiet homes afar,
To watch beside the couch of pain,
Where heroes dream of war.
Ah! never more the father's foot
Shall tread his home again,
Death claims him now, though spared before
Upon the battle plain.

From far-off Minnesota,
From Michigan, from Maine
Where mountain streams are flashing
'Twixt fields of golden grain,
Where the gray rocks are lifting
Their battlements on high,
The soldiers of the Union
Have laid them down to die.

Vermont has sent her mountain boys,
New York her gallant sons;
Each loyal State, both east and west,
Has glorious laurels won!
The Bay State and Ohio,
Have battled side by side,
And Pennsylvania's noble sons,
On her own soil have died!

"The rebel foot treads Northern soil,--
Quick to the rescue come!"
So rang the cry o'er hill and vale,
While to the tap of drum
Men moved in quickly gathering ranks,
To meet the invading foe ;
The Lord of hosts the victory gave
And laid the rebels low!

The birthday of our nation!
What glory new it wears,
All purified and sanctified
By grateful tears and prayers!
Millions unborn shall bless the day
When patriots. fought and died,
When wrong met right in open fight,
And God was on our side!

Honor to our brave army,
And to brave General Meade!
The Keystone bails her honored son,
Faithful in word and deed.
Unfading be their laurels,
Undimmed their high renown high
If called on earth to suffer loss,
May heaven bestow a crown.

O brothers! build a monument,
In future years to tell
How much we prized the victory won,
And mourned for those who fell;
For those who saved the Keystone
From pillage and from flame;
For those who filled untimely graves,
Yet earned a deathless name!