THE CHAMBER OVER THE GATE Is it so far from thee Thou canst no longer see Is it so long ago That cry of human woe From the walled city came, In the distance of to-day? "O Absalom, my son!" There is no far nor near, There is neither there nor here, There is neither soon nor late, To that cry of human woe, "O Absalom, my son!" From the ages that are past Come the echoes back to me, Somewhere, at every hour, The tidings of despair. "O Absalom, my son!" He goes forth from the door With him our joy departs; The light goes out in our hearts. "O Absalom, my son!" That 't is a common grief HENRY W. LONGFELLOW. THE BLUE AND THE GRAY "O MOTHER What do they mean by blue, The mother's eyes filled up with tears; And smoothed away from the sunny brow 66 Its treasures of golden hair. Why, mother's eyes are blue, my sweet, And grandpa's hair is gray, And the love we bear our darling child Grows stronger every day." "But what did they mean" persisted the child, "For I saw two cripples to-day, And one of them said he fought for the blue, And the other, he fought for the gray. "Now he of the blue had lost a leg, The other had only one arm, And both seemed worn and weary and sad, Yet their greeting was kind and warm. They told of battles in days gone by, Till it made my young blood thrill: The leg was lost in the Wilderness fight, And the arm on Malvern Hill. "They sat on a stone by the farm-yard gate And talked for an hour or more, Till their eyes grew bright, and their hearts seemed warm, With fighting their battles o'er; And parting at last with a friendly grasp, In a kindly, brotherly way, Each called on God to speed the time Uniting the blue and the gray." |