Alabama, ipi8. 33 



THE MARCHING LEGIONS 



SUMMER is on her way, 

 July has come and gone; 

 No one remembers May, 

 August is marching on ; 

 Softly the South wind blows. 

 Yet, but a dream and then 

 Deep in the drifting snows 

 We shall be cast again. 



Where are the songs of Spring 



Sung from the April larch? 

 Where is the roistering 



Of the winds of March ? 

 Where is the light of June 



Crowning her crimson throne? 

 Gone as a passing tune. 



Mad youth is on its way, 



Childhood has come and gone ; 

 Dim is the distant day 



Boyhood was marching on; 

 Life now is lilting rhyme, 



Yet, but a step and then 

 Gray with the snow of time 



Life turns to prose again. 



Where are the songs of Youth 



Sung where the breakers foam? 

 Where is the old time truth 



Taught at the hearth of home? 

 Where are the loves we've known 



In the red deeps of June ? , 



Gone as a breath is blown — ! 



Gone as a passing tune. j 



— Grantland Rice. \ 



