"Scoutopaedia" © - by Tom Vella-Zarb - Campfire Closings


Glory to thee my God, this night
For all the blessings of thy light
Keep us this night, oh King of Kings
Beneath thine own Almighty wings.
I declare this Campfire closed.
We came as strangers.
We part as brothers.
May the spirit of the Nekanetah*
be with you always.

* Nekanetah was the campsite of the Elgin, Ontario, Canada, District Campsite [substitute the name of your camp]
My friends the coals of the Council fire burn low.
Our Council is nearly ended.
Let the smoke of the dying embers carry our prayers to the One Great Spirit.
Our Council is now ended.
Now as we come to our last Campfire
Let's pause for a moment and praise
The Almighty God who saw fit to inspire
Our Founder who gave us these days.
Almighty God, help us to face life bravely
When we are faced with difficulties.
Help us to make them stepping stones to success,
Not excuses for failure.
Help us to be greater than our limitations.
Comes the last day of many days
The last Campfire of all too few
Last but not lost. In the years ahead
These times our memories shall renew
May the road rise to greet you
May the Wind be always at your back
May the sunshine warm your face
May the rains fall soft upon your fields
Until we meet again,
May God hold you in the hollow of His hand.
Scouts of the world - where'er you be
God shed His blessed grace on thee
And crown thy good with brotherhood
From sea to shining sea.

Just as I am, young strong, and free
To be the best that I can be;
For truth, and righteousness and Thee
Lord of my life, I come.

If radio's slim fingers
Can pluck a melody from night
And toss it o'er a continent or sea;
If the soft-petalled notes of a violin
Are blown o'er mountains or a city' s din;
If songs like fragrant roses
Are culled from thin blue air,
How then, can mortals wonder
If God hears prayer?

Deep peace of the shining stars to you,
Deep peace of the flowing air to you,
Deep peace of the running water to you,
Deep peace of the quiet earth to you,
Deep peace of the Prince Of Peace to you.

(To be said while Taps is being hummed)

Clear through the gathering dusk a bugle sounds,
In quick response the campers turn from play;
While through the silent hills the call resounds,
They stand erect to honour close of day.
As 'neath the stars the echoes softly fade,
An over-ruling sense of peace is there;
Since God is nigh, no need to be afraid,
He hears the slinhtest whisper of a prayer.

From western skies the colours slowly die,
The stsrs above the pines their watches keep.
Another joyous day goes swiftly by,
Another night bestows her gift of sleep.

The day was long, we've worked and played,
And round this fire, we've good friends made,
We've shared a friendship fine and deep,
And now this circle leave to sleep.

Day is Done

Tune | Note

Day is done,
Gone the sun,
From the lake, from the hills, from the sky.
All is well, safely rest,
God is nigh.

Fading light
Dims the sight
And a star, Gems the sky, Gleaming bright
From afar. Drawing nigh.
Falls the night.

Thanks and praise.
For our days, Neath the sun. Neath the stars.
Neath the sky
As we go, this we know.
God is nigh


Note on the Origin of Taps

This is known as "TAPS". We hear it played at military funerals, and on such occasions as Remembrance Day. Here is a very interesting story about its origin. Reportedly, it all began in 1862 during the Civil War, when Union Army Captain Robert Ellicombe was with his men near Harrison's Landing in Virginia. The Confederate Army was on the other side of the narrow strip of land. During the night, Captain Ellicombe heard the moans of a soldier who lay severely wounded on the field. Not knowing if it was a Union or Confederate soldier, the Captain decided to risk his life and bring the stricken man back for medical attention. Crawling on his stomach through the gunfire, the Captain reached the stricken soldier and began pulling him toward his encampment. When the Captain finally reached his own lines, he discovered it was actually a Confederate soldier, but the soldier was dead. The Captain lit a lantern and suddenly caught his breath and went numb with shock. In the dim light, he saw the face of the soldier. It was his own son. The boy had been studying music in the South when the war broke out. Without telling his father, the boy enlisted in the Confederate Army. The following morning, heartbroken, the father asked permission of his superiors to give his son a full military burial, despite his enemy status. His request was only partially granted. The Captain had asked if he could have a group of Army band members play a funeral dirge for his son at the funeral. The request was turned down since the soldier was a Confederate. But, out of respect for the father, they did say they could give him only one musician. The Captain chose a bugler. He asked the bugler to play a series of musical notes he had found on a piece of paper in the pocket of the dead youth's uniform. This wish was granted. The haunting melody, we now know as "Taps" ... used at military funerals was born.



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