Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807–1882). Complete Poetical Works. 1893.
In the HarborDecoration Day
S
On this Field of the Grounded Arms,
Where foes no more molest,
Nor sentry’s shot alarms!
And started to your feet
At the cannon’s sudden roar,
Or the drum’s redoubling beat.
No sound your slumber breaks;
Here is no fevered breath,
No wound that bleeds and aches.
Untrampled lies the sod;
The shouts of battle cease,
It is the truce of God!
The thoughts of men shall be
As sentinels to keep
Your rest from danger free.
We deck with fragrant flowers;
Yours has the suffering been,
The memory shall be ours.