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All quiet along the Potomac to-night,
No sound save the rush of the river,
While soft falls the dew on the face of the dead—
The picket ’s off duty forever.

— Ethel Lynn Beers

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More quotes by Ethel Lynn Beers

All quiet along the Potomac they say
Except now and then a stray picket
Is shot as he walks on his beat, to and fro,
By a rifleman hid in the thicket.

Art thou a pen, whose task shall be
To drown in ink
What writers think?
Oh, wisely write,
That pages white
Be not the worse for ink and thee.

All Ethel Lynn Beers quotes →

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Quote text and notes from Wikiquote: Ethel Lynn Beers (page history), available under CC BY-SA 4.0. Source quality and labels are our own summary of what Wikiquote records.