Here shall the child of after years be led,
With his wreath-offering silently to stand
In the hush’d presence of the glorious dead—
Soldier and bard! for thou thy path hast trod
With freedom and with God.
The oak waved proudly o’er thy burial rite,
On thy crown’d bier to slumber warriors bore thee,
And with true hearts thy brethren of the fight
Wept as they veil’d their drooping banners o’er thee;
And the deep guns with rolling peal gave token