Why, with uncovered head
Stand they upon that fleece of snow
Mute-stricken, as of sudden woe?
Silent they wait the dead.
Comes there some hero slain
Upon the blood-red field of war?
With soldier-guarded funeral car,
And glittering martial train.
No gun with sullen roar;
No flaunting emblems from the fight
To spread his fame, to tell his might;
Who died, to die no more.
With reverend tread, and slow,
All noiselessly the footsteps fall;
As sombre garb, and plume and pall
Pass o'er the soft, white snow.
'Mid Love's choice offering
Of sweet, rare flowers, whose tender breath
Speak brightest life, serenest death,
He lies, affection's king.
Triumph of Christian faith
O'er spurious sophistries of time;
The sinless walk; the end sublime,
No ghastly fears to scathe.
Pass on unto thy rest
Thou generous heart! thou rich in lore!
Thou whom all creeds and castes deplore;--
God knoweth what is best.