Margaret Junkin Preston Poems

Halt!-the march is over,
Day is almost done;
Loose the cumbrous knapsack,
Drop the heavy gun.
...

What are the thoughts that are stirring his breast?
What is the mystical vision he sees?
-'Let us pass over the river, and rest
...

Only a private - and who will care
When I may pass away,
Or how, or why I perish, or where
I mix with the common clay?
...

I read the marble-lettered name,
And half in bitterness I said,
'As Dante from Ravenna came,
Our poet came from exile-dead.'
...

A simple, sodded mound of earth,
Without a line above it;
With only daily votive flowers
To prove that any love it:
...

Float aloft, thou stainless banner!
Azure cross and field of light;
Be thy brilliant stars the symbol
Of the pure and true and right.
...

Grandly thou fillest the world's eye to-day,
My proud Virginia! When the gage was thrown--
The deadly gage of battle--thou, alone,
...

We do accept thee, heavenly Peace!
Albeit thou comest in a guise
Unlooked for-undesired, our eyes
Welcome through tears the sweet release
...

I
How much would I care for it, could I know
That when I am under the grass or snow,
The ravelled garment of life's brief day
...

We mean to do it. Some day, some day,
We mean to slacken this feverish rush
That is wearing our very souls away,
And grant to our hearts a hush
...