Hushed is our stricken land to-day
And every city great and small is draped in mourning,
And every heart, the young, the old, is mute with grief
For our great chieftain who is dead.
No more for him the trials of life
Confronting with their many vexing problems grave,
Yet intermixing blessed hours of joy and peace,
Sweet oases of rest amid life’s toil.
No more for him the battle-field
Where he once fought for freedom’s rights so fearlessly,
To save this gladsome land from ruin and disgrace,
The mother-land he had so dearly loved. 
No more for him the cares of state
And mighty war to show his sturdy character,
And prove that though he dreaded human bloodshed much,
He knew what honor did demand.
For him no more that best of earthly joys,
The joy of feeling he was loved by everyone,
Most by a tender, frail companion, whom he cheered
And guarded with a manly heart.
Let all mankind now voice a prayer,
Let every church bell sadly toll the grief we feel,
For him who dearly loved his country and his home,
And was so honest with his God.
And ere we lay him to his rest,
As he begins his glorious and immortal life,
Let us recall the words the dying martyr spoke:
“Nearer my God to Thee, to Thee.”