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 afarIts gallant prowess, deeds of high empriseWin 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 nameLoud plaudits and the laurel wreath of fame;Shall we less heed the sad, pathetic pleaOf valiant sufferers who fought for you and me?

Frederick Saunders.New York Times.

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