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.

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