Hush'd Be the Camps To-Day [ May 4, 1865

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.

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.

But sing poet in our name,