On, on with his ashes! he left but his plough!
Brave old Cincinnatus! unwind ye his sheet:
Let him sleep as he lived—with his purse at his feet.
Follow now as ye list: the first mourner to-day
Is the nation—whose father is taken away.
Wife, children and neighbor may moan at his knell—
He was “lover and friend” to his country as well!
For the stars on our banner grown suddenly dim
Let us weep, in our darkness—but weep not for him.
Not for him, who, departing, leaves millions in tears;