Where broad between its banks stretches the Meuse, mirroring the bloom in the west and the evening star, where the cornflowers look up with heaven's own blue and the poppies cover the fields like a crimson sea, where the skylark unseen is still soaring and singing, and the nightingale from the snowy hawthorn spray warbles divinely at even. French mothers who have lost all their sons in the war shall come with their tribute of blossoms to those vast cities of the dead. Here while the flowers fall unnoticed from their trembling hands and with tears streaming down their careworn faces and with prayers of gratitude upon their lips, they shall bless the memory of those noble American boys who poured out the rich, red blood of youth who lie in a land they crossed the ocean to save. Among the priceless treasures we have at home is a picture of Lieutenant Hanley standing among a bower of roses. This was sent to his mother just before he left the United States. How like those roses was he--the most perfect flower of all. The dew of youth, the rosy bloom of manhood, the purity of those fragrant petals in his soul, all speak to us from that portrait. It seems as if: A happy smile flits 'cross his face, The dream of fair Elysian fields, A vision of the old home place To darkened memories swiftly yields. God had turned the trenches to roses again When they bore him home across the wave He was true to self, to God, and man And was leaving a land he died to save. How quiet on that August morn The tolling bell gave forth its sound. In star-draped casket, slowly borne, A treasure not of earth was found. Like dew upon a flower sleeping Or fairest hue of sunset skies A jewel in the master's keeping A radiant pearl of greatest price. Like amber-tinted clouds of May By many vagrant breezes driven; That frail form swiftly passed away To melt and fade in dawn's fair heaven. Death is but the mist of early morn Seen rising o'er the placid river, An open gateway into heaven Where the pure with God shall dwelt forever. CHAPTER X LEXINGTON AND CONCORD Coming into Lexington from the south one passes Follen church, where Emerson preached. Farther along on the right is the house of John Harrington, last survivor of the battle; then, near the corner of Maple street, the great elm planted by his father. About a quarter of a mile further, on the left, is the Munroe Tavern, headquarters and hospital of Earl Percy, now the property of the Lexington Historical Society. The granite cannon by the High School marks the site of one of the field-pieces placed by Earl Percy to cover the retreat of the British troops. In the town hall is the admirable painting of the Battle of Lexington, by Sandham; also in the town offices statues of Hancock and Adams.