Evening Republican, Volume 21, Number 133, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 21 June 1917 — THE NAME OF OLD GLORY [ARTICLE]

THE NAME OF OLD GLORY

BY JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY

OLD GLORY! say, who. By the ships and the crew, And the long, blended ranks of the gray and the blue,Who gave you. Old Glory,the name that you bear With such pride everywhere _ As you cast yourself free to the rapturous air And leap out full 3 length,as we’re wanting you to ? Who gave you that name, with the ring of the same, And fne honor and fame so becoming to you ?• \6ur stripes stroked in ripples of white and of red, With your stars at their glittering best overhead By day or by night Their delightful lest light Laughing down from their little square heaven or blue’ Who gave you the name of Old Glory ?-say, who— Who gave you the name of Old Glory ? The old banner lifted, and faltering then In vague lispsand whispers fell silent again. n Old Glory,—speak out !-we are asking about How you happened to"Favor”a name, so to say. That sounds so familiar and careless and gay As we cheer it and shout in our wild breezy way— We —the crowd, every man of us, calling you that Tom, Dick,and Harry-each swinging his hat * And hurrahing "Old Glory!” tike you were our Kin, 7“ When-Zor^/-we a I know we’re as common as sin! And yet it just seems like you humor us all And waft us your thanks, as we hail you and fall Into line, with you over us, waving us on Where our glorified, sanctified betters have goneAnd this is the reason we’re wanting to know—(And were wanting it so/-- . Where our own fathers went we are willing to goj Who gave you the name of Old x'cry-Oho’ Who gave you the name of Old Glory r The oldflag unfurled with a billowy thrill For an instant, then wistfully sighed and was still. ITT Old Glory: the story we’re wanting to hear . Is what the plain facts of your christening were,For your name -fust to hear it, _ Repeat it, and cneer it, ’s a tang to the spirit As salt as a tear;- ■ ” And seeing you fly, and the boys marching by, ThereS a shout in the throat and a blur in the eye And an aching to live for you always-or die,, If, dying, we still keep you waving on high. And so, by our love For you, floating above, . .. r Ana the scars of all wars and the sorrows thereof, Who gave you the name of Old Glory, and why Are we thrilled at the name of Old Glory? Then the old banner leaped, like a sail in the blast, And fluttered an audible answer at last.— And it spake, with a shake of the voice, and it said:— <By the driven snow-white and the living blood-red Of my bars, and their-heaven of stars overhead By the symbol conjoined of them all, skyward cast. As I float from the steeple, or flap at the mast, Or droop o’er the sod where the grasses nod,— My name is as old as the glory of . . .So I came by the name of Old Glory. COPYRIGHT 1900 BY JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY ’

TIIS inspiring poem was read by Mr. Riley on February 23, 1903, when the state of Indiana presented a sword to Admiral Taylor, who commanded the battleship Indiana in the engagement off Santiago. Before reading the stanzas, the poet paid an intro uc ory tribute to the flag as follows: . \ . c . IT . O “It may seem a late day in which to attempt a tribute to our glorious old flag, the Stars and Stripes/but that it is an ever newer glory in our eyes and an ever dearer rapture in our hearts. The coming generations of its patriot followers, high and low, can but lift to it contmuous voicesof applause and benediction. Master orators may eulogize it till no turther tiin of speech seems left with which to fitly glorify it, or poets may sing its praise till their song seems one with the music of the ripples of the breezes m its silken folds;; but no trlbutevoice of forum, harp or clarion .may well hold mute the one all-universal voice that breaks, with cheers and tears at every newer sight of our nation’s hallowed , emblem—the old flag. Over its brave heroes and defenders, .since ‘the shot heard round the world,’ it has been a panoply, a shelter and a shield, and yet how proudly have the embattled hosts gone down that they might lift it to securer heights. Its wavering shade has fallen on the weary marcher softly as the shadow of the maple at his father's door. He has heard its fluttenngs, like light laughter, in the lull of noonday battle; and, worn with agony, above the surgeon s tent, that all is well. Yea and in death the sacred banner has enfolded him, even as a mother s fond caress, bo, but the Lord’s own victory in which he shares: the land he loved restored, inviolate, to kinsmen, —comrades and oncoming patriot thousands yet to be —the broad old land of freedom firm underfoot once‘more—the old flag overhead ! And what "inspiring symbol must this banner be to its defpnders who go down to sea m ships this of the old flag: ’ . . “‘There is an odd thing about that flag when you meet it on thehigh seas and the wind is blowing hard, name’.v, that‘..f all flags I know, it is the most alive: ytolhe wind meft tSger Tnd stare seeming with the joy of excitement. So that there is none better to go into battle, or come-down the street when the fifes are piping ahead. “And with righteous pride it is recorded that upon the sea —borne on the throbbing bosom of the gale and baptized with the salt sea spray—this beloved flag of ours was first .christened by the name of Old Glory."’