Walla Walla Statesman

Give me the land of ruin and graves.
Yes, give me the land where ruins are spread,
And the living tread light on the hearts of the dead;
Yes, give me the land that is blest by the just,
And bright with the deeds of the down-trodden dust;
Yes, give me the land where the battle's red blast
Has flashed on the future the form of the past;
Yes, give me a land that has legends and lays,
That tell of the memories of the long vanished days;
Yes, give me land that has story and song,
To tell of the strife of the right with the wrong;
Yes, give me a land with a grave in each spot,
And names in the graves that shall not be forgot;
Yes, give me the land of the wreck and the tomb,
There's a grandeur in graves-there's a glory in gloom,
For out of the gloom future brightness is born,
As after the night comes the sunrise and morn;
And the graves of the dead with grass overgrown,
May yet form the footstool of liberty's throne;
And each single wreck of the war-path of might
Shall yet be a rock in the temple of right.