In Memory of the Dead

The shepherd has left his sheep,
     A martyr is laid to rest,
     A Nation in mourning dressed;
     We gave to the earth our best
When closed those dear eyes in sleep.

So noble, and good, and wise!
     Peace followed his guiding hand
     Throughout this great, happy land,
     And now from a stricken band
Sad moaning and sobs arise.

Our shepherd, our guide, our friend!
     We followed where’er he led,
     We suffered, we fought, we bled,
     We willingly gave our dead,
And this is the awful end!

We cannot replace the gem—
     ’Tis lost in the mystic past,
     While Nations look on aghast,
     And lo! we behold at last
Our poor, broken diadem!

’Tis hard, but “God’s will be done”—
     Like evergreens in the glade,
     Ne’er may such a memory fade,
     But e’er be a tribute paid
To our dear departed one!