HUSH'D be the camps to-day; br And, soldiers, let us drape our war-worn weapons; br And each with musing soul retire, to celebrate, br Our dear commander's death. br br No more for him life's stormy conflicts; br Nor victory, nor defeat--no more time's dark events, br Charging like ceaseless clouds across the sky. br br br But sing, poet, in our name; br Sing of the love we bore him--because you, dweller in camps, know it br truly. br br As they invault the coffin there; 10 br Sing--as they close the doors of earth upon him--one verse, br For the heavy hearts of soldiers.