Hush'd Be The Camps To-day

   HUSH'D be the camps to-day;
   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;                                  10
   Sing--as they close the doors of earth upon him--one verse,
   For the heavy hearts of soldiers.