Amanuensis Monday - Grandma Hill's Poetry, week 10

THE BOYS WHO MARCHED AWAY

 

Trumpets and drums and marching feet

Out of the past, their echos flow

Banners that flaunted through the street

Bright eyes, tear wet, that gazed below.

Visions of glory and glow

Light hearts of youth that dared the fray

Lost in the mists of the long ago.

Where are the boys, who marched away?

Far o'er the sea, their ghostly fleet

Rocks at its moorings, to and fro

There where the fen and ocean meet

Proudly, their column moves, and slow.

Africa and Italy lie low, lie low

Berlin is fallen, and the smoke is cleared away

Where are the hearts that knew their throe

Where are the brave boys who marched away?

Young eyes that gazed beyond defeat

Sleep by the Rhone and the Po

Ah, dreams of that terrible battle head

Are under the poppies, or under the snow.

Silently they await that Last Great Day

And desert, and steppe, and torrent know

Where are the boys who marched away?

And Lord, when the silver trumpet shall blow

Calling us to come to our battle fray

Grant us to look on high and know

Where the boys are who marched away.

Nancy Jane Wiley Hill (1875-1960) was always writing something.  Many of those poems are now in the possession of her granddaughter Shirley Kern.  Shirley, with the help of her sister-in-law Ruth Ormsby, transcribed these poems in 1996 for a Hill-Ormsby-Kern family reunion.  I am going to post many of these poems so that they may be enjoyed by all.

These are copyright 1996 and reprinted with permission.