Poems (Howard)/At Half mast

by Hattie Howard

At Half Mast.

No joyful song is mine to-day
 Because at early morning,
That solemn bell not far away
 Pealed forth its dreadful warning;
And through my heart a shudder went
 For by arrangement given,
That General Grant—the signal meant—
 Had passed from earth to Heaven.

Then, later, down the street I passed
 So sad—almost to crying—
For all around me at half mast
 The " stripes and stars" were flying;
And friendly faces that I sought
 Were signs of sorrow wearing—
That is, all who in kindly thought
 Are our dead hero bearing.

For some will scoff instead of sigh,
 And wickedly upbraid him—
But there are those who would defy
 And curse the God who made him;
And some beside his bier will crave
 A place, and round him hover
Who—ghouls, and heartless!—from the grave
 Would tear its sacred cover.

O, shame! for aye throughout the land
 Let theirs he detestation,
Who would have manacled the hand
 Of him who saved the nation;
On his high tower how harmless fall
 Alike reproach and slander,
While deeds of war and peace recall
 The worth of our commander.

Then wheresoever, o'er the world,
 The name of "Grant" is spoken,
Let flags half-masted be unfurled
 As grief's expressive token;
For naught to him are honors now
 Which, through the years, have crowned him,
Who lies upon the mountain brow
 His banner wrapped around him.

O let us hope, from his far height
 The blessed fields Elysian,
The Promised Land appeared in sight
And cheered his waning vision.
 As from McGregor's lonely crest
With rev'rent hands we bear him
 Who knoweth not, in painless rest,
How ill the world can spare him.