Sleep, soldiers! still in honored restYour truth and valor wearing:The bravest are the tenderest,—The loving are the daring. The Song of the Camp (1856)
Thunder-spasms the waking beInto Life from Apathy:Life, not Death, is in the gale, —Let the coming Doom prevail! The Poet's Journal (1863)
Death is not rare, alas! nor burials few,And soon the grassy coverlet of GodSpreads equal green above their ashes pale.