Atlanta lost, like some prized wedding ring
Whose bride can ne’er recover from the sting,
Hood’s Rebel army marched to Tennessee
To search the western vales for victory.
And on the trek, Pat Cleburne saw a place
So beautiful a smile came on his face –
A church and cemetery, and Pat swore,
“Why, this is almost worth one’s dying for!”
Just two weeks later, it became his bed
For he, at Franklin, was among the dead.
And though he laid there, blind to e’en the stars,
The nations foolishly keep fighting wars.
The picture is mine of a mural of General Pat Cleburne
that is on a wall of a building in downtown Cleburne, Texas.
Cleburne was at first buried elsewhere, but someone
remembering his words urged that he be buried at that
site. He was, but was later buried in his “hometown” of
© Dennis Allen Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2016.