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    AC Benus
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Poetry posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

The Great Mirror of Same-Sex Love - Poetry - 65. ...how our noble Willie fell...

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The Vacant Chair

 

On this Memorial Day, let us remember Henry Stevenson Washburn. He was forty-eight years old when he met and watched an eighteen-year-old John William Grout lead a charge and die in the Battle of Ball’s Bluff. The young lieutenant must have meant a great deal to the poet, and since the death occurred near the time of Thanksgiving, he imagined himself as a loved one gathered around the table with the rest of the dead boy’s family.

 

 

We shall meet but we shall miss him.

There will be one vacant chair.

We shall linger to caress him,

While we breathe our ev’ning prayer.

 

When a year ago we gathered,

Joy was in his mild blue eye.

But a golden cord is severed.

And our hopes in ruin lie.

 

We shall meet, but we shall miss him.

There will be one vacant chair.

We will linger to caress him,

When we breathe our ev’ning prayer.

 

At our fireside, sad and lonely,

Often will the bosom swell,

At remembrance of the story –

How our noble Willie fell;

 

How he strove to bear our banner,

Thro’ the thickest of the fight,

And uphold our country’s honor

In the strength of manhood’s might.

 

We shall meet, but we shall miss him.

There will be one vacant chair.

We will linger to caress him,

When we breathe our ev’ning prayer.

 

True, they tell us, wreaths of glory

Evermore will deck his brow;

But this soothes the anguish only,

Sweeping o’er our heart-strings now.

 

Sleep to-day, O early fallen!

In thy green and narrow bed:

Dirges from the pine and cypress

Mingle with the tears we shed.

 

We shall meet, but we shall miss him.

There will be one vacant chair.

We will linger to caress him,

When we breathe our ev’ning prayer.

—Henry Stevenson Washburn,[i]

November 16th, 1861

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


[i] “The Vacant Chair” Henry Stevenson Washburn, reprinted in The Vacant Chair and Other Poems (New York 1895), ps. 13-18

https://archive.org/details/vacantchairando00washgoog/page/n18/mode/2up

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as noted
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Poetry posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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John William Grout,

in the photo the young man gave to Washburn himself

 

Edited by AC Benus
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Composer George Root set it to music and moved the entire nation, both North and South. Here is a straightforward, but emotionally charged recording of the song.

 

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This poem is sometimes read at military formals (Dining-In, Mess Night, Regimental Dinners) near the Missing Man Table (later known as the Fallen Soldier Table) which is always set in remembrance of fallen service members, POWs or MIAs. That table is now sometimes set at chain restaurants, civic events, schools, etc. and has unfortunately lost the significant meaning along the way. 

I appreciate you sharing this poem on this very important day and understanding exactly what it means. 

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Thank you for choosing this particular poem for today. It is especially apt, for precisely the reasons you and @84Magspoint out. Thanks also for linking us to the George Root setting of the poem, which is what I encountered first in life. As a young college vocal student, it was included in my final recital repertoire. 

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On 5/30/2022 at 8:14 AM, 84Mags said:

This poem is sometimes read at military formals (Dining-In, Mess Night, Regimental Dinners) near the Missing Man Table (later known as the Fallen Soldier Table) which is always set in remembrance of fallen service members, POWs or MIAs. That table is now sometimes set at chain restaurants, civic events, schools, etc. and has unfortunately lost the significant meaning along the way. 

I appreciate you sharing this poem on this very important day and understanding exactly what it means. 

Thank you, 84Mags! I think that as Americans we are rather poor in honoring traditions. It's nice to think, like the vacant chair, that we can muster it when remembering our fallen. Thanksgiving itself is about the best tradition Americans keep, and few realize it was the Civil War and its aftereffects that made the holiday what it is for us. 

Thanks again for your comments. They are always appreciated!  

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On 5/30/2022 at 11:01 AM, Parker Owens said:

Thank you for choosing this particular poem for today. It is especially apt, for precisely the reasons you and @84Magspoint out. Thanks also for linking us to the George Root setting of the poem, which is what I encountered first in life. As a young college vocal student, it was included in my final recital repertoire. 

Thank you, Parker. It's wonderful you have a personal history with George Root's musical setting of the poem. I feel Root's handling of the verse is simple and direct, which adds tremendously to the intimacy present in Washburn's original lamentation for the young man. It's touching. 

Thanks again for reading and commenting. Your input is always appreciated

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