Crown Our Heroes
Crown our heroes, the soldiers, whose spirits have fled
To the land of the blest; crown the heroic dead.
Let the fair hand of woman weave gaflands of flowers
Kissed by heaven’s pure sunlight in sweet morning hours.
Go tenderly, gently, and scatter them where
Our heroes are sleeping! Go scatter them there.
Crown our heroes, the soldiers, who sleep on the shore
Where the call of the bugle can wake them no more.
Men who fought to defend us—oh, can we forget
The tribute of glory we owe to them yet?
Bring love’s fairest offerings, with tears and with prayer
And gratefully, sacredly scatter them there.
Crown our heroes, the soldiers, whose grandeur and power
Saved our own dear Columbia in war’s troubled hour.
When amid the fierce struggle each soul was a host,
Who was ready to die lest his country be lost.
They are dead! They are dead! What now can we do
As a token of love for the noble and true?
Crown our heroes, the soldiers. Oh! Scatter the flowers
O’er the graves of the dead; they are yours, they are ours.
Men who fought for the flag, and our foes in the fray;
For as brothers they sleep, both the blue and the gray.
And true to our banner, our offerings we bring—
Blushing roses of summer, and violets of spring.
Crown our heroes, God bless them! No true heart must lag;
Crown the dead and the living who stood by the flag.
Through the oncoming ages let each have a name
Carved in letters of gold in the temple of fame;
For the bright stars of freedom—our banner unfurled—
Is the joy of Columbia, the pride of the world!

Poems