I heard a voice that cried, " Make way for those who died! "
And all the colored crowd like ghosts at morning fled;
And down the waiting road, rank after rank there strode
In mute and measured march a hundred thousand dead.

A hundred thousand dead, with firm and noiseless tread,
All shadowy-gray yet solid, with faces gray and ghast,
And by the house they went, and all their brows were bent
Straight forward; and they passed, and passed, and passed and passed,

But O there came a place, and O there came a face,
That clenched my heart to see it, and sudden turned my way;
And in the face that turned I saw two eyes that burned,
Never-forgotten eyes, and they had things to say.

Like desolate stars they shone one moment, and were gone,
And I sank down and put my arms across my head,
And felt them moving past, nor looked to see the last,
In steady silent march, our hundred thousand dead.

I heard a voice that cried, " Make way for those who died! "
And all the colored crowd like ghosts at morning fled;
And down the waiting road, rank after rank there strode
In mute and measured march a hundred thousand dead.

A hundred thousand dead, with firm and noiseless tread,
All shadowy-gray yet solid, with faces gray and ghast,
And by the house they went, and all their brows were bent
Straight forward; and they passed, and passed, and passed and passed,

But O there came a place, and O there came a face,
That clenched my heart to see it, and sudden turned my way;
And in the face that turned I saw two eyes that burned,
Never-forgotten eyes, and they had things to say.

Like desolate stars they shone one moment, and were gone,
And I sank down and put my arms across my head,
And felt them moving past, nor looked to see the last,
In steady silent march, our hundred thousand dead.