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(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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