Saturday, January 27, 2018

On Holy Ground

Return with us now to a more calmer and serene time of Christian Confederate Warriors and their ladies fair, of plantation homes, song birds and hanging trees.   Come with us and take a respite if but for a moment in time, as the Old South and the Confederacy live again in all their glory, splendor and grace.
I stood this day in fire and blood;
On honoured fields of grass and mud.
This our land where valor rests;
Southern glory stood the test.
  
 

I walked among those stones of grey;
Where gallant warriors here they lay.
Into the battle bold and loud;
Confederate Legions like a cloud.
 
With pike and saber into the fight;
Dixie men with all their might.
Passing ages day by day;
Southern Knights all clad in grey.


Should they rise in grand elation;
They would bid us restore their nation.
A grandeur nation could never stand;
Than what they built upon this land.

Oh ye people upon this mound;
Stand ye here on holy ground.
Almighty God pray I this day;
Our Southern nation return to stay.

  
By Thomas E. Guinn

1 comment:

  1. "When I consider Southern Poetry, the soft breeze of grace and majesty of the Old South comes back, like a long ago paradise of flowers, cotton fields, hanging trees and song birds, a sweat savour. Christian Southern Gentlemen and their Ladies Fair, their majestic columned plantation homes; happy children playing before them. But I am reminded also of Confederate Warriors suited for battle, in long grey lines, defending our Southern homeland. Southern Poetry allows me to relive as it were, our history, heritage and culture, like a weary warrior returning for a respite from the ravages of war, but for a moment, return to the splender, grace and the nobility, a collective memory burried deep within the heart of the South.

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