 | Leaves of grass (1872) |  |
42
HUSH'D BE THE CAMPS TO-DAY.
(May 4, 1865.)
1
[1]
Hush'd be the camps to day;And, soldiers, let us drape our war-worn weapons;
And each with musing soul retire, to celebrate,
Our dear commander's death.
2
No more for him life's stormy conflicts;Nor victory, nor defeat—no more time's dark events,
Charging like ceaseless clouds across the sky.
2
3
But sing, poet, in our name;Sing of the love we bore him—because you, dweller in camps, know it truly.
4
As they invault the coffin there;Sing—as they close the doors of earth upon him—one verse,
For the heavy hearts of soldiers.
| Leaves of grass (1872) | |