Hymns and Odes X

Long, in a nameless grave, Bones of the true and brave! Have ye reposed. This day, our hands have dressed, This day, our prayers have blessed A chamber for your rest; And now 'tis closed. Sleep on, ye slaughtered ones! Your spirit, in your sons, Shall guard your dust, While winter comes in gloom, While spring returns with bloom, Nay,--till this honored tomb Gives up its trust. When war's first blast was heard, These men stood forth to guard Thy house, O God! And now thy house shall keep Its vigils where they sleep, And long its shadow sweep O'er their green sod. In morning's prime they bled; And morning finds their bed With tears all wet; Tears that thy hosts of light, Rising in order bright, To watch their tomb all night, Shed for them yet. Nought shall their slumber break; For "they shall not awake, Nor yet be raised Out of their sleep," before Thy heavens, now arching o'er Their couch, shall be no more.-- Thy name be praised!