Hushed Be the Camps Today
by Walt Whitman

(May 4, 1865)

Hushed be the camps today,
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.