UPON A SOUTHERN BATTLEFIELD

Upon a southern battlefield the twilight shadows fall;
The clash and roar are ended, and the evening bugles call.
The wearied hosts are resting where the ground is stained with red,
And o'er the plain between them lie the wounded and the dead.
Then out upon the sodden field where the armies fought all day
There came a group of soldiers who wore the Rebel gray.
But peaceful was their mission upon the darkened plain;
They came to save their wounded and lay at rest the slain.
And tenderly their hands performed the work they had to do;
And one among them paused beside a wounded boy in blue,
A Northern lad with curly hair and eyes of softest brown,
Whose coat of blue was red with blood that trickled slowly down.
A bullet hole was in his breast, and there alone he lay
At night upon the battlefield and moaned his life away.
The Rebel paused beside him and in the lantern's light
He saw upon the Yankee's breast a fair, familiar sight.
It was the pin of DKE, the diamond, stars and scroll-
The emblem of a Brotherhood that bound them soul to soul.
He raised his hand and quickly tore his coat of gray apart
To show the dying soldier a Deke pin on his heart!
Then close beside the Yankee dropped the Rebel to his knee
And their hands were clasped together in the grip of DKE.
"I'm from Theta," said the Yankee, as he tried to raise his head,
"I'm from Psi in Alabama," were the words the other said,
"Brothers from the heart forever"-nothing more was left to say
Though one was clad in Northern blue and one in Southern Gray.
But the wounded lad was dying; his voice was faint at best,
As he murmured out his message for "Mother and the rest."
And as the Rebel soothed him with his head upon his knee,
He heard him whisper "Bowdoin" and "The Dear old DKE."
And he bandaged up the bosom that was torn by Rebel Shot
And bathed the brow with water where the fever fires were hot
And kissed him for his mother and breathed a gentle prayer
While angels' wings were fluttering above them in the air.
Then to a lonely country home far in the heart of Maine
A letter made the journey from that Southern battle plain;
It told about the conflict and how he bravely fell
Who was the son and brother in that home beloved so well.
It told the simple story of that night when he had died,
All written by the Southern Deke who God sent to his side.
And when it all was written the writer sent within
A little lock of curly hair and a battered diamond pin.
And thirty years have passed away, but these simple relics are,
Of all a mother treasures dear, the dearest still by far.
A simple tale and simply told, but true; and I thought it might
Well stir the hearts of loyal Dekes, so I tell it here tonight.
The Northern soldier's name is found on Bowdoin's honor roll;
The names of both are blazoned fair on Delta Kappa's scroll.
God bless our noble Brotherhood; its past is sweet to hear,
And its grandeur and its glory grow with each succeeding year.
And the story of its heroes shall an inspiration be
To us who proudly wear today the pin of DKE.