Hymn Poem by William Ross Wallace

I.


Oh, well may the muffled drum be rolled,
And the Star-Flag wrapped around him;
For beneath the flash of its glorious fold
The soul of valor crowned him;
And well may the storied marble rise
O’er his hallowed dust forever,
Who to Honor turned his eagle-eyes,
But his back on the foeman never!


II.


Not a brow is veiled, not a tear is shed
As we pass under death’s dark arches;
Oh, too proudly we look ou the mighty Dead,
For a sigh in the funeral marches:
O’er the craven-form let the forehead bow;
But a smile that is grand and solemn
Should alone be seen on each manly brow
As we stand by the trophied column.


III.


Then now let the drum unmuffled be,
Let the Flag uncrap’d stream o’er him,
Every warrior-fold in the breeze as free
As it was with the foe before him;
And now let the requiem proudly close,
While the trump swells a joyous number;
For a nation guards such a grand repose,
Such a true man’s sacred slumber.