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.
Count not the cost of honour to the dead!The tribute that a mighty nation paysTo those who loved her well in former daysMeans more than gratitude for glories fled;For every noble man that she hath bred,Lives in the bronze and marble that we raise,Immortalised by art's immortal praise,To lead our sons as he our fathers led.henry van dyke
O Trade, O Trade! Would thou wert dead!The time needs heart — 'tis tired of head.Sidney Lanier
Hail to the land whereon we tread,Our fondest boast!The sepulchres of mighty dead,The truest hearts that ever bled,Who sleep on glory’s brightest bed,A fearless host:No slave is here:—our unchained feet,Walk freely as the waves that beatOur coast.james gates percival