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Publication information
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Source: Lawrence Daily Journal
Source type: newspaper
Document type: poem
Document title: “‘When Thou Art Laid Down’”
Author(s): Arnold, Annie Sears
City of publication: Lawrence, Kansas
Date of publication: 19 September 1901
Volume number: 33
Issue number: 217
Pagination: [2]

 
Citation
Arnold, Annie Sears. “‘When Thou Art Laid Down.’” Lawrence Daily Journal 19 Sept. 1901 v33n217: p. [2].
 
Transcription
full text
 
Keywords
William McKinley (mourning: poetry); William McKinley (poetry); McKinley assassination (poetry); William McKinley (death: poetry).
 
Named persons
none.
 
Notes
The condition of the newspaper (an online scanned document) is poor in places, rendering punctuation and selected letters difficult or impossible to read. A best guess is given below as to what the punctuation is intended to be.
 
Document

 

“When Thou Art Laid Down”

Rise up, uncovered my brother,
     From your utmost southern bay,
And you from your rolling prairie,
     Where the western breezes play,
And North, and the East go mourning
     For him who is dead today.
          O, lower the flag and drape it
               As he [to] his rest is borne[!]
          While the long, long bells go tolling
               Mourn ye, and mourn and mourn.

For him whom [t]he hissing bullet
     Hath thrust into death’s dark maw;
Whose [l]aw was the tenderes[t] mercy,
     Whose mercy was highest law;
Unfearing e’en death’s undoing,
     Brave st[a]teman [sic] with scarce a flaw.
          O, lower the flag a[n]d drape it
               As he to his rest is borne!
          While the long, long bells go tolling
               Mourn ye[,] and mourn and mourn.

O, stra[n]ge that so brave a soldier,
     At a coward’s foul command
Could falter thus in his march[i]ng,
     Could stay thus his hero hand.
          O, lower the flag and drape it
               As he to his re[s]t i[s] borne!
          While the long[,] long bells go tolling
               Mourn ye, and m[o]urn and mourn.

The truest—the dea[r]est lover
     H[e] stands to the world confessed.
Now open your arms, Ohio,
     And gather him to his rest,
Whi[le] the world stands at attenti[o]n
     To him who hath d[o]ne his be[s]t.
          O[,] lower th[e] flag a[n]d drape it
               As he to his rest is borne!
          While the long[,] long bells go tolling
               Mourn ye, and mourn and mourn.

 

 


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