James and Mary Ford, eds. Every Day in the Year. 1902.
March 17The Dead Cannoneer
By James Ryder Randall (18391908)
J
With all its gorgeous cheer,
In the bright April of historic life,
Fell the great cannoneer.
His bleeding country weeps;
Hushed in the alabaster arms of Death,
Our young Marcellus sleeps.
Curbing his chariot steeds,
The knightly scion of a Southern home
Dazzled the land with deeds.
The champion of the truth,
He bore his banner to the very front
Of our immortal youth.
The fiery pang of shells,—
And there’s a wail of immemorial woe
In Alabama dells.
Along the crimson field;
The meteor blade sinks from the nerveless hand
Over the spotless shield.
While round the lips and eyes,
Couched in their marble slumber, flashed the grace
Of a divine surprise.
Thy tears may soon be shed;
Think of thy boy with princes of the sky,
Among the Southern dead!
Fevered with swift renown,—
He, with the martyr’s amaranthine wreath
Twining the victor’s crown!