. Book of the Royal blue . to gray with them all when the bugle blows, Soldiermen, bent and gray:Don them all when you hear the call —Don them and march away! For your blood runs red as it did of old, It burns with the old-time fire;And your hearts leap quick as the drum that rolled. Though the laggard feet may cheer the flag till the echoes come And the tear in the march to the music of the fife and drum As you did in days gone by! Belt and knapsack and epaulet. Chevrons and badge of corps;Iut them on, for we love them yet, .lust as in days of them nn
. Book of the Royal blue . to gray with them all when the bugle blows, Soldiermen, bent and gray:Don them all when you hear the call —Don them and march away! For your blood runs red as it did of old, It burns with the old-time fire;And your hearts leap quick as the drum that rolled. Though the laggard feet may cheer the flag till the echoes come And the tear in the march to the music of the fife and drum As you did in days gone by! Belt and knapsack and epaulet. Chevrons and badge of corps;Iut them on, for we love them yet, .lust as in days of them nn when the trumpets sound. Soldiermen. bent and gray;God bless you. for your heart was true — Wear them and march away! For our blood runs red when we see you come. With in your serried ranks;Our hearts heat big with the throbbing drum. .d thrill with the .saber eyes grow wet and our tongues are dumb. But the flag smiles in the sky;So march to the music of the fife and drum As you did in days gone by!. How many well-toned intellects getout of tune when some fool strumsthe strings of their conceit. The fact of fiction existing helpshalf-hearted skeptics to doubt the exist-ence of fact. The exercise of too much diplomacyis an indication of too little sincerity. There should be something left tothe imagination of love; a consistentseasoning with the sauce of uncertainty. Advekse criticism is often nothingmore than a caricature painted by prej-udiced conceit. Secrets are syndicated by a breachof the trust that originated them. The gospel of romance is responsiblefor many disasters in fact. My mother was unknown to me, yetI look in the face of every good womanfor her likeness. Doubt is treason to the king oflove, and fears are hopes devoid offaith. Had the heart received one-half thecultivation of the brain, moral condi-tions would have reached their zenith. Love and hate are first-cousins ina womans temperament, and one fre-quently embraces the other. Remorse an
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Keywords: ., bookauthorbaltimoreandohiorailr, bookcentury1800, bookdecade1890
