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Again. dear Comrades, we have gathered
From every clime and every shore.
To rehearse the old, old story
For our warfare is most o’er.
Yes, dear Comrades, we’ve been marching
In the line our Brothers fell.
Through the Battles that were hottest
Through the carnage that was hell.
Now we are gathered in their memory,
0! the stories we could tell.
How they fought, bled and suffered
For our Country in which we dwell.
Years have past it’s now so different,
Time has changes Us; to a Man.
Some have passed beyond the river
Never to return again.
Some are sleeping here and yon-der,
Underneath the evergreen.
Some had left the dear old home-stead,
Never more to see it again.
We were glad when the war was over,
And we’d conquered every foe.
And brought into subjection,
Every living Reb we knew.
Now we are in the peaceful Valley,
Where wars are never known.
Let us pray for a continuance,
Of peace, good will in every Home.
G. W. Shellman. Kalamazoo, Mich., Oct. 21, 1908.