Soldiers' Graves
BY W. E. CHANNING .
For fretted roof, God's brave bright sky,
Flaming with light, bends over them.
In place of verse — a people's liberty,
Graved in deep hearts, their requiem;
The fringes, little flowers, — the shining grass; —
Will any for such burial say — Alas!
For fretted roof, God's brave bright sky,
Flaming with light, bends over them.
In place of verse — a people's liberty,
Graved in deep hearts, their requiem;
The fringes, little flowers, — the shining grass; —
Will any for such burial say — Alas!
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