THE SOUTH
by Abram Joseph Ryan
(1839-1894)

Yes, give me the land
  Where the ruins are spread,
And the living tread light
  On the heart of the dead;
Yes, give me the land
  That is blest by the dust,
And bright with the deeds
  Of the down-trodden just.
  
Yes, give me the land
  Where the battles' red blast
Has flashed on the future
  The form of the past;
Yes, give me the land
  That hath legends and lays
That tell of the memories
  Of long-vanished days.
  
Yes, give me the land
  That hath story and song
To tell of the strife
  Of the right with the wrong;
Yes, give me the land
  With a grave in each spot
And names in the graves
  That shall not be forgot.
  
Yes, give me the land
  Of the wreck and the tomb;
There's grandeur in graves --
  There's glory in gloom.
For out of the gloom
  Future brightness is born;
As, after the night
  Looms the sunrise of morn.
  
And the graves of the dead,
  With the grass overgrown,
May yet form the footstool
  Of Liberty's throne;
And each simple wreck
  In the way-path of might
Shall yet be a rock
  In the temple of Right.

Postwar Remembrances

This page is http://civilwarpoetry.org/confederate/postwar/south.html
Last modified 18-April-2001