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The Soldier's Grave

Breathe not a whisper here;
The place where thou dost stand is hallowed ground;
In silence gather near this upheaved mound -
Around the soldier's bier.

Here Liberty may weep,
And Freedom pause in her unchecked career,
To pay the sacred tribute of a tear
O'er the pale warrior's sleep.

That arm now cold in death,
But late on glory's field triumphant bore
Our country's flag; that marble brow once bore
The victor's fadeless wreath.

Rest soldier, sweetly rest;
Affection's gentle hand shall deck thy tomb
With flowers and chaplets of unfading bloom
Be laid upon thy breast.

Notes

This poem appeared in the February 7, 1863, edition of The Poughkeepsie Telegraph.

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  • December 13, 2008
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    Amen

    From guest Prongs (contact)
    I'd never heard this before, but I must say thank you for posting it. To those gone before, thank you, and to those still fighting, God Bless!