Bob Taylor's Magazine, Vol. I, No. 2

Synopsis

Time in its tireless flight has brought us again to the full leaf and flower of another summer. The grass grows green about the dust of heroes; the roses twine once more about their tomb, and the morning-glories point their purple bugles toward the sky as if to sound a reveille to our immortal dead. Another year with its sunshine and its shadows, its laughter and its tears, its sowing and its reaping, its cradle songs and funeral hymns, now lies between us and that dark day at Appomattox when the star of Southern hope went down and the flag of Southern chivalry was furled forever. Another year has added whiter locks to the temples of those old veterans who wore the gray, and deeper furrows to their brows, and they now stand among us like solitary oaks in the middle of a fallen forest, hoary with age, covered with scars, and glorious as the living monuments of Southern manhood and Southern courage.

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