Henry Wadsworth Longfellow — Decoration Day

Sleep, comrades, sleep and rest        &nbsp On this Field of the Grounded Arms, Where foes no more molest,        &nbsp Nor sentry's shot alarms! Ye have slept on the ground before,        &nbsp And started to your feet At the cannon's sudden roar,        &nbsp Or the drum's redoubling beat. But in this camp of Death        &nbsp No sound your slumber breaks; Here is no fevered breath,        &nbsp No wound that bleeds and aches. All is repose and peace,        &nbsp Untrampled lies the sod; The shouts of battle cease,        &nbsp It is the Truce of God! Rest, comrades, rest and sleep!        &nbsp The thoughts of men shall be As sentinels to keep        &nbsp Your rest from danger free. Your silent tents of green        &nbsp We deck with fragrant flowers; Yours has the suffering been,        &nbsp The memory shall be ours.