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.