And the wreath of laurel, ye’ve bravely won,
We offer to you, and our welcome it breathes,
For our prayers were twined with its glossy leaves.
But ye’re not all here, and we’ll look in vain
For the smiles that will greet us never again;
And the quivering lip and tearful eye
Mutely ask you where our treasures lie.
Some sleep where Virginia’s waters flow,
Murmuring their requiem soft and low;
Others with fairest flowers were drest,