"Jim ---, of Biloxi." That is all. It is graven into the granite wall Where the monument rises fair Into the soft Virginian air Among a hundred comrades' names, -- Their country's heritage, -- and Fame's.
Jim ---, of Biloxi. Nothing more. Naught of his name or his fame is sure, Save that down where the river ran And the regiments struggled man to man, An humble son of the fighting South Gave his life at the musket's mouth.
Perchance where the Sunflower River flows By forests of jessamine and rose, Or where the Gulf Stream washes far Its tides of blue to the vesper star, Some one waited with prayers and tears For Jim ---, of Biloxi, these many years.
Life and Name and Cause all lost; Least and last of the mightiest host That ever wrote in the blood of men A dream that will never be dreamed again, Gone like the strain that the bugle blew, Jim ---, of Biloxi, heaven shelter you!
