A Soldier's Grave
by John Albee (1833�1915) |
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BREAK not his sweet repose�
Thou whom chance brings
to this sequestered ground,
The sacred yard his ashes
close,
But go thy way in silence; here no sound
Is
ever heard but from the murmuring pines,
Answering the
sea's near murmur;
Nor ever here comes rumor
Of
anxious world or war's foregathering signs.
The bleaching
flag, the faded wreath,
Mark the dead soldier's dust
beneath,
And show the death he chose;
Forgotten save
by her who weeps alone,
And wrote his fameless name on
this low stone:
Break not his sweet repose. |
By John Albee (1833�1915)
Listed November 2, 2012 |
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