I wove me a wreath of flowers
To place in memories hall,
In honor of the brave and fearless men
Who had answered our country's call.
The men who had answered, and fought, and died
For the cause of freedom, our country's pride!
I wove me a wreath of flowers
With many a sigh and tear,
As a tribute to all the good and true
Who were given few honors here.
The man of humble piety
Who lived and died in obscurity.
A wreath of flowers, a little thing
For flowers wither and fade;
But the fragrance they shed is not soon forgot
By me, who the wreath has made.
So the virtues of those who have gone before,
Will always be treasured in memory's store.
EPITAPH
Our loved ones lay them down to sleep
And leave us here to grieve and mourn,
While we, our silent watches keep,
O'er their low graves whence they are bourne.
Some heroes are in battle slain,
Their names are honored far and near,
While others die on beds of pain
And no sad mourner sheds a tear.
This day we honor each and all
Whose soul has left its temporal case;
And be he great, or be he small,
We'll reverence his resting place.