AT THE BURIAL OF A VETERAN.

"Hodie tibi, cras mihii."

Yours to-day and ours to-morrow,
Hither, comrade, hence to go;
Yours the joy and ours the sorrow,
Yours the weal and ours the woe.

What the profit of the stronger?
Life is loss and death is gain;
Though we live a little longer,
Longer life is longer pain.

Which the better for the weary—
Longer travel? Longer rest?
Death is peace, and life is dreary:
He must die who would be blest.

You have passed across the borders,
Death has led you safely home;
We are standing, waiting orders,
Ready for the word to come.

Empty-handed, empty-hearted,
All we love have gone before,
And since they have all departed,
We are loveless evermore.

Yours to-day and ours to-morrow,
Hither, comrade, hence to go;
Yours the joy and ours the sorrow,
Yours the weal and ours the woe.