Here you will find the Poem Battle-Flags Of Illinois of poet Harriet Monroe
Through the red dusk of war they flew From Shiloh to the sea. Black fumes from shattered bolts that blew Withered the colors three, And crimson rains made sombre stains. For every flag a grave?yes, more? For each a score of graves. Crossed are the heroes' hands that bore, No wind the furled folds waves. Sweet be their rest, by soft peace blest. Is there no end? What mighty host Of spirits ranged for war The signal of the Holy Ghost Shall summon hence afar! Vast armies wait in solemn state. Where valor fights for freedom?there, Till the last slave is free, These ragged flags will float in air, There will our heroes be. And shall we dare fight with them there?
