Shades of our heroes dead, Sleeping in glory, Here, where your blood was shed, Carve we your story! Marble must sink in dust, Fame lives forever. Though your true blades be rust, Forget we? Never! Yon sculptured sentinel Watches your sleeping. Tells how you fought and fell, Loyally keeping Life's trust. You met death's hour Stern and undaunted. Ours 'tis to nurse the flower Your valor planted. Here, 'neath the giant hills, Rest warriors, rest ye! Lulled by the murm'ring rills, None shall molest ye! Fanned by our south wind's breath, Sleep, soldiers weary! Yours was no fameless death, Darksome and dreary. Sleep well! The strife is past; No war-drum's rattle Breaks forth, nor bugle's blast. Hushed is the battle. Wrapt in your native earth, Sweet be your slumber! When shall we match your worth? When your deeds number? Strewn be this sacred sod, Soldier's fit pillow. Whence your souls sprang to God, With sorrow's willow! Many a youth shall bring Many a maiden, Tribute of balmy spring Here, flower-laden. Sleep on; but not for aye! Should war's red chalice Dash out its gory spray Over our valleys, Come! In the battle's crest Flash your proud lances, Lead where our bravest, best Column advances!
