Taps

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| Taps 1

When the day's heavy drilling is over, When its wearisome toiling is done, | Comes a peace in the deepening shadows That have followed the light of the sun |

| Comes a time to commune with the loved ones In the dear distant home-land, perhaps | 'Tis no matter how far, there's a dream-gate ajar, With bright visions of rest — after taps. I

While our Laddie, our Soldier was serving, 1 With his heart upon victory set, I | With his face toward the foe, hoping, praying to go |

Where the hell-hounds of hate could be met; 1 | Came a herald from heaven's Grand Council, | 1 With the summons that never may lapse; 1 And the gateway of Paradise opened, 1 And the angels within sounded taps. a =

So methinks that our Soldier, our Laddie, | Was not meant for the maddening fray, 1 He so dreaded the fight, though he knew it was right, |

| When he eagerly hurried away; § | With our Nation's brave millions he hurried, That our freedom be kept on the maps | Duty called, and our brave Laddie answered, | Unheeding, unmindful, of taps.

When we think of our Soldier, our Laddie, I The feeling that thrills through the heart Is that bravely we'll carry our burdens, That we must perform nobly our part. | For the great Resurrection just dawning | Will leave in love's circle no gaps; | And the joys of Eternity wait us In the peace and the rest after taps. I Provo, Utah Annie D. Palmer.

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