Blog Archives

Ms. Mary Q

Mary Quantrell, Mary Quantrell
Who absolutely no one knows well—
Flew our fair flag for that one Genl. A.P. Hill,
But Poeters STILL Cite That farbara britchie Still?!
T’would be a grand thing if they’d get it right,
But them sad Yankees poets can’t by a sight.
So when next in Glenwood Cemetery off North Capital Street
Doff yer cap for Ms. Q the discounted and remember her sweet.
Antietam took over 22,700, and so Abe gave us The Proclamation—
KNOW YOUR HISTORY, we owe it to Mary and all the Nation!

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Key Number 63/Stars and Bars

The grounds man walked up to the gate
And pulled out his Yale key numbered 63:
This day had been long in coming;
The end of a hard era of taut history.

A lost soul in Charleston
Killed nine in Mother Emanuel.
Whither go our children:
Do you seek Heaven or Hell?

The gate swung open and let in the man
Who reached up for the halyard,
And down furled came the Stars and Bars—
A breeze ripening out of the Southward.

94 thousand died under that proud banner
For their State, their God and sweet country fair—
But fairly beaten, fairly lost
With blasted angels, a long gray line climbed that tall stair.

A lost soul in Charleston
Killed nine in Mother Emanuel.
Whither go our children:
Do they seek Heaven or Hell?

The legislature cast their ballots
On the sure fait accompli
As would’ve been that final warrant
Signed by Abe Lincoln or by Marse Lee

The grounds man folded the crimson rag
Headed for a place of Honoured History;
Now wrongly tainted by hate and sorrow,
The cure a socio-psychological mystery.

A lost soul in Charleston
Killed nine in Mother Emanuel.
Whither go our children:
Do we teach Heaven or Hell?