I stand to-day on this historic ground,
Where many thousand heroes now at rest,
Lay in this sea-girt nook, while not a sound
Of life or drum disturbs each pulseless breast.

But in the earth's embrace they calmly sleep,
While peace o'er trees and verdant shrubbery waves,
God's white-robed sentinels doth keep
Their nightly vigil o'er their grassy graves.

And here they lie as in their ranks they stood
Upon the field of carnage, where they fell;
With noble purpose linked in brotherhood,
They broke the bondsman's fetters born of hell.

I read the names engraven here on stone,
Yet some " unknown " appear who fought for right;
But on the records kept on high, not one
" Unknown " is found. They're known there in God's sight.

" Requiescat in pace " until the bugle call,
Shall summon ye with us to meet our God,
" Who taketh note of every sparrow's fall,
And chasteneth whom He loveth with the rod. "