To the brave all homage render,
Weep ye skies of June!
With a radiance pure and tender,
Shine, oh saddened moon!
Dead upon the field of glory,
Hero fit for song and story,
Lies our bold dragoon.
John R. Thompson
Turner Ashby killed in Shenandoah Valley Campaign, 1862
Patrick Henry dies, 1799
June Seventh
Peace to the dead! though peace is not
In the regal dome or the pauper cot;
Peace to the dead! there’s peace, we trust,
With the pale dreamers in the dust.
James Ryder Randall
Monument created, 1910, to the memory of Confederate officers who perished from starvation and exposure at Johnson’s Island
June Eighth
Aurora faints in the fulgent fire
Of the Monarch of Morning’s bright embrace
And the summer day climbs higher and higher
Up the cerulean space;
The pearl-tints fade from the radiant grain,
And the sportive breeze of the ocean dies,
And soon in the noontide’s soundless rain
The fields seem graced by a million eyes;
Each grain with a glance from its lidded fold
As bright as a gnome’s in his mine of gold,
While the slumb’rous glamour of beam and heat
Glides over and under the windless wheat.
Paul Hamilton Hayne
Stonewall Jackson turns upon Fremont at Cross Keys, 1862