classic poetry
Hushed Be the Camps Today by Walt Whitman
    (May 4, 1865)

Hushed be the camps today,
And soldiers let us drape our war-worn weapons,
And each with musing soul retire to celebrate
Our dear commander's death.

No more for him life's stormy conflicts,
Nor victory, nor defeat -no more time's dark events,
Charging like ceaseless clouds across the sky.
But sing poet in our name,

Sing of the love we bore him -because you -dweller in camps, know it truly.
As they invault the coffin there,
Sing -as they close the doors of earth upon him -one verse,
For the heavy hearts of soldiers.

 
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