Hush'D Be The Camps To-Day; And, Soldiers, Let Us Drape Our War-Worn Weapons; And Each With Musing Soul Retire, To Celebrate, Our Dear Commander'S Death. No More For Him Life'S Stormy Conflicts; Nor Victory, Nor Defeat--No More Time'S Dark Events, Charging Like Ceaseless Clouds Across The Sky. But Sing, Poet, In Our Name; Sing Of The Love We Bore Him--Because You, Dweller In Camps, Know It Truly. As They Invault The Coffin There; Sing--As They Close The Doors Of Earth Upon Him--One Verse, For The Heavy Hearts Of Soldiers.