The dead who fell at Gettysburg the land shall not forget.
God send us peace! and where for aye the loved and lost recline
Let fall, O South, your leaves of palm,—O North, your sprigs of pine!
But when, with every ripened year, we keep the harvest-home,
And to the clear Thanksgiving-feast our sons and daughters come,—
When children’s children throng the board in the old homestead spread,
And the bent soldier of these wars is seated at the head,
Long, long the lads shall listen to hear the gray-beard tell
Of those who fought at Gettysburg and stood their ground so well:
“’Twas for the Union and the Flag,” the veteran shall say,