Archive | May 25, 2020

The Blue and the Gray

Francis Miles Finch (1827–1907), a judge, law professor, and poet, was deeply moved by the story of the women of Columbus, Mississippi, who in 1866—only a year after the end of the Civil War—decorated the graves of both Union and Confederate dead. Seeing the moment as a symbol of reconciliation, Finch composed “The Blue and the Gray” as a commemoration.


By the flow of the inland river,
Whence the fleets of iron have fled,
Where the blades of the grave-grass quiver,
Asleep are the ranks of the dead:
Under the sod and the dew,
Waiting the judgment-day;
Under the one, the Blue,
Under the other, the Gray

These in the robings of glory,
Those in the gloom of defeat,
All with the battle-blood gory,
In the dusk of eternity meet:
Under the sod and the dew,
Waiting the judgement-day
Under the laurel, the Blue,
Under the willow, the Gray.

From the silence of sorrowful hours
The desolate mourners go,
Lovingly laden with flowers
Alike for the friend and the foe;
Under the sod and the dew,
Waiting the judgement-day;
Under the roses, the Blue,
Under the lilies, the Gray.

So with an equal splendor,
The morning sun-rays fall,
With a touch impartially tender,
On the blossoms blooming for all:
Under the sod and the dew,
Waiting the judgment-day;
Broidered with gold, the Blue,
Mellowed with gold, the Gray.

So, when the summer calleth,
On forest and field of grain,
With an equal murmur falleth
The cooling drip of the rain:
Under the sod and the dew,
Waiting the judgment -day,
Wet with the rain, the Blue
Wet with the rain, the Gray.

Sadly, but not with upbraiding,
The generous deed was done,
In the storm of the years that are fading
No braver battle was won:
Under the sod and the dew,
Waiting the judgment-day;
Under the blossoms, the Blue,
Under the garlands, the Gray

No more shall the war cry sever,
Or the winding rivers be red;
They banish our anger forever
When they laurel the graves of our dead!
Under the sod and the dew,
Waiting the judgment-day,
Love and tears for the Blue,
Tears and love for the Gray.



The South Eastern Conference ( SEC ) is getting ready for football.  Maybe we can see the Kentucky Cheerleaders.

The Sullivan guy is goofy.


The Assistant Editor:  Do you know about riptides or rip currents, LL ?

Ancient Mariner Cat:  Where is The Editor ?

TAE:  In Kentucky, doing a story on cheerleaders.

AMC:  I sure do, here is a story about a rip current in the Tar Heel State, and how to swim out of a riptide or rip current.

I hope Obama’s corrupt administration is in a rip current with the Durham investigation.

There are two ( 2 ) Joe Biden’s running for President.  Maybe that is why he can’t complete a thought.  They are fighting to see who is more black.  He probably has more personalities than Eve.

This was overlooked for the Kentucky Cheerleader Article.

In Flanders Fields

Image result for in flanders field

In Flanders Fields

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.