Poem September 8, 1898 Issue

THE CLOUD OVER VICTORY

Frederick Saunders

The pomp and stately pageantry of War,
Fame's trumpet-tongue, delights to spread afar
Its gallant prowess, deeds of high emprise
Win for the Victors praise from hearts and eyes.
But War exacts cruel asperities—
Too oft its bravest heroes victims fall,
And homes of love are shrouded with a pall—
While multitudes of maimed seek our relief.
E'en Victories bring inevitable grief;
Life's golden chalice we too often greet,
To find alas! the wine embittered sweet.
We joyfully accord the Warrior's name
Loud plaudits and the laurel wreath of fame;
Shall we less heed the sad, pathetic plea
Of valiant sufferers who fought for you and me?

Frederick Saunders.
New York Times.

Send a comment to the editors

NEXT IN THIS ISSUE

Editorial

The Weekly has made its first bow to the Field