178

[Newspaper clipping]

The Wail of the

I walked alone in the twilight,
In the city of the dead,
No sound was heard save my footfall
And the twittering birds o'er head.

It seemed so quiet and sacred
I knew no sense of fear,
But thought of the beautiful song,
Oh, it's quiet down here.

The pine trees standing side by side
Like soldiers in a row,
They stood as tho' they were on guard
O'er those who slept below.

But as the shadow deepened
Then I heard other sounds,
A gentle breeze began to blow
Through trees and over mounds.

The pine trees seemed to sob aloud
While swaying to and fro;
I asked is it for the babes you weep,
They sighed and answered, "No."

Why should we weep for the babes?

They bore the brunt of noon-day heat,
Their battles they fought and won,
They made the world a better place
And have heard their Lord's "Well done."

"We weep for those who lived for self,
Nor lightened another's load,
Nor gave to any a helping hand
Along life's weary road.

"The joy of service they never knew,
Their interests were all their own,
Their lives meant nothing to anyone else
And now they are missed by none."

If you don't want the pines to weep,
To your own self be true;
Just help in every way you can
And they will not weep for you

--Mary I.