To Their Memory

Francis Mallette Hawley

Circa 1900

To the memory of the dead
Lay above the honored head,
Flowers, sweet flowers,
Over hearts that ceased to beat, In the battle's smoke and heat,
Scatter flowers, rare flowers.


To the memory of that times,
Brave soldiers toughed the battle line,
Gather flowers, bright flowers.
Let their fragrant incense rise
To greet their souls in Paradise,
Where flowers never die.

To the memory of those years,
So full of sadness, yet how dear;
Offer flowers, pure flowers,
Not a gold or silver flower,
Bur from Natures fairest bower,
Cull the flowers, True flowers.

To the memory of the woe
That filled a nation long ago;Bring flowers, sad flowers,
But for the victory nobly won,
By a Nations bravest sons,
Lay immortelles o'er each one.