The Girl Who Used To Be

The Girl Who Used to Be
1212

Here’s an end to loving; here we part,” you say;
“Life, the cruel master, has to have his way
We have had our pleasant vision, you and I-
Now the daylight calls me: I must say good-by”
Glib your tongue to frame it; every phrase is pat;
You have poise, but I well, I can’t envy that
Take your freedom with you; give the world its due-
Life may have, and welcome, that which now is you

Nay, you do not wrong me; what you have is yours-
What I have you cannot take: that at least endures
They will gain a woman beautiful to see:
I shall keep forever the girl who used to be

Catching the mantle of death-darkened night
Cover them over-yes, cover them over-
Parent, and husband, and brother, and lover;
Clasp in your hearts these dead heroes of ours,
And cover them over with beautiful flowers

Cover the feet that, all weary and torn,
Hither by comrades were tenderly borne:
Feet that have trodden, through love-lighted ways,
Near to your own, in the old happy days:
Feet that have pressed, in Life’s opening morn
Roses of pleasure, and Death’s poisoned thorn
Swiftly they rushed to the help of the right,
Firmly they stood in the shock of the fight
Ne’er shall the enemy’s hurrying tramp
Summon them forth from their death-guarded camp,
Ne’er till Eternity’s bugle shall sound,
Will they come out from their couch in the ground
Cover them over-yes, cover them over-
Parent, and husband, and brother, and lover;
Rough were the paths of those heroes of ours-
Now cover them over with beautiful flowers
Cover the hearts that have beaten so high,

Now they are lying all pulseless and still;
Once they were glowing with friendship and love,
Now the great souls have gone soaring above
Bravely their blood to the nation they gave,
Then in her bosom they found them a grave
Cover them over-yes, cover them over-
Parent, and husband, and brother, and lover;
Beaten with hopes that were born but to die:
Hearts that have burned in the heat of the fray,
Hearts that have yearned for the homes far away;
Hearts that beat high in the charge’s loud tramp,
Hearts that fell low in the prison’s foul damp
Once they were swelling with courage and will
Press to your hearts these dead heroes of ours,
And cover them over with beautiful flowers

One there is, sleeping in yonder low tomb,
Worthy the brightest of flow’rets that bloom
Weakness of womanhood’s life was her part;
Tenderly strong was her generous heart
Bravely she stood by the sufferer’s side,
Checking the pain and the life-bearing tide;
Fighting the swift-sweeping phantom of Death,
Easing the dying man’s fluttering breath:
Then, when the strife that had nerved her was o’er,
Calmly she went to where wars are no more
Voices have blessed her now silent and dumb;
Voices will bless her in long years to come
Cover her over-yes, cover her over-
Blessings, like angels, around her shall hover:
Cherish the name of that sister of ours,
And cover her over with beautiful flowers

Cover the thousands who sleep far away-
Sleep where their friends cannot find them today
They who in mountain and hillside and dell
Rest where they wearied, and lie where they fell
Softly the grass-blade creeps round their repose;
Sweetly above them the wild flow’ret blows;
Zephyrs of freedom fly gently o’erhead,
Whispering names for the patriot dead
So in our minds we will name them once more,
So in our hearts we will cover them o’er;
Roses and lilies and violets blue
Bloom in our souls for the brave and the true
Cover them over-yes, cover them over-
Parent, and husband, and brother, and lover;
Think of those far-away heroes of ours,
And cover them over with beautiful flowers,

When the long years have crept slowly away,
E’en to the dawn of Earth’s funeral day;
When, at the Archangel’s trumpet and tread,
Rise up the faces and forms of the dead;
When the great world its last judgment awaits:
When the blue sky shall swing open its gates,
And our long columns march silently through,
Past the Great Captain, for final review;
Then for the blood that has flown for the right,
Crowns shall be given, untarnished and bright;
Then the glad ear of each war-martyred son
Proudly shall hear the good judgment, “Well done”
Blessings for garlands shall cover then over-
Parent, and husband, and brother, and lover;
God will reward those dead heroes of ours,
And cover them over with beautiful flowers