A “Mass” Meeting

2 0 00

A “Mass” Meeting

It was a solemn rite as e’er

Was seen by mortal man.

The celebrants, the people there,

Were all Republican.

There Estee bent his grizzled head,

And General Dimond, too,

And one⁠—’twas Reddick, someone said,

Though no one clearly knew.

I saw the priest, white-robed and tall

(Assistant, Father Stow)⁠—

He was the pious man men call

Dan Burns of Mexico.

Ah, ’twas a high and holy rite

As anyone could swear.

“What does it mean?” I asked a wight

Who knelt apart in prayer.

“A mass for the repose,” he said,

“Of Colonel Markham’s”⁠—“What,

Is gallant Colonel Markham dead?

’Tis sad, ’tis sad, God wot!”

“A mass”⁠—repeated he, and rose

To go and kneel among

The worshipers⁠—“for the repose

Of Colonel Markham’s tongue.”