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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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