The comrades who still survive them,
Like gold in the furnace tried,
Speak, with tear-dimmed lashes,
Of the gallant boys that died.
These flowers will fade and perish,
Tho' hallowed by each grave;
But they will live forever
In the hearts of the true and the brave.
Then let this custom continue
Till tears and flowers shall cease,
And we shall greet the gallant boys
On the shores of endless peace.
Lines To My Cell.
Oh, silent and mysterious cell,
Could I command thy walls to tell