The Blue and the Gray

As years passed on, from homes apart Our brothers sped themselves away; With fierce intent in every heart. Some wore the Blue and some the Gray.

They marched to fields of deadly strife, And met in fratricidal fray; With purpose strong as love of life— Some fought in Blue and some in Gray.

Each deemed his cause both true and just. And bravely strove to win the day; And of the hosts who bit the dust, Some fell in Blue and some in Gray.

Where flowers bloom in southern vales. Where waters dash in crystal spray. Where hills are fanned by northern gales, Some sleep in Blue and some in Gray.

On mansion and on cottage wall, Hang the dead heroes of the fray, Whose mute lips answer not the call Of comrades wearing Blue and Gray.

And out from homes both South and North, The orphaned children bend their way; And widowed mothers issue forth. To drop their tears on Blue and Gray.

Over the dead the same sun throws His warm, benignant, peaceful sway; And in their undisturbed repose. The Blue lies buried with the Gray.

Night darkens all the deep abyss, And stars shoot forth with silver ray; The moonlight pales and dew-drops kiss The moss-grown graves of Blue and Gray.

Ye living, bring your garlands fair. And clasp your hands anew to-day! One flag yet floats upon the air; We're brothers still, both Blue and Gray! J.G. Walker