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The Immortal Legacy of the Unconquered Dead
The immortal legacy of the tmconquered dead is that then were unconqitered.
They gave us thai that none could take away, their faith in the things that matter
more than the breath in our bodies. Yet there is another legacy.
No one has yet been able to give the world a list of those men whose gen f us It ad set
them already on the ticay to fame when the scar took them. The group of poems in
the next few pages is either the work of these fallen poets or appreciations of them
by other poets.
0 Valiant Hearts Who to Tour Glory Came
O VALIANT hearts who to your glory came
Through dust of conflict and through battle-flame ;
Tranquil you lie, your knightly virtue proved,,
Your memory hallowed in the Land yen loved.
Proudly you gathered, rank on rank to war,
As who had heard God's message from afar;
All you had hoped for, all you tad, you gave
To save Mankind—yourselves you scorned to save.
Splendid you passed, the great surrender made,
Into the light that never more shall fade ;
Deep your contentment, in that blest abode,
Who wait the last clear trumpet-call of Gcd.
Long years ago, as eartli lay dark and still,
Rose a loud cry upon a lonely hill,
While in the frailty of our human clay*
Christ our Redeemer passed the selfsame way.
Still stands His cross from that dread hour to this
Like some bright star above the dark abyss ;
Still through the veil the Victor's pitying eyes
Look down to bless our lesser Calvaries,
These were His servants, in His steps they trods
Following through death the martyred sons of God ;
Victor He rose ; victorious too shall rise
They who have drunk His cup of sacrifice.
O risen Lords O shepherd of our dead,
Whose cross has brought them and whose staff lias led,
In glorious hope their proud and sorrowing Land
Commits her children to Thy gracious Hand.
By Sir John Arlwrigkt, sung at the
Lurial of America^ T}riltnown Warrior
The Thing® That Witt
BUT the things I love In nature are the height, the depth, the length
Of the mountains and the ocean and the plain,
All the things that tell so wondrously the magnitude and streBgth
Of the hand that made the things which will remain.
Brian Brooke