HYMN OF DEAD SOLDIERS. 

1   ONE breath, O my silent soul, 	
A perfum'd thought—no more I ask, for the sake of all 
         dead soldiers. 	

2   Buglers off in my armies! 	
At present I ask not you to sound; 	
Not at the head of my cavalry, all on their spirited 
         horses, 	
With their sabres drawn and glist'ning, and carbines 
         clanking by their thighs—(ah, my brave horse- 
         men! 	
My handsome, tan-faced horsemen! what life, what joy 
         and pride, 	
With all the perils, were yours!) 	

3   Nor you drummers—neither at reveille, at dawn, 	
Nor the long roll alarming the camp—nor even the 
         muffled beat for a burial; 	
Nothing from you, this time, O drummers, bearing my 
         warlike drums. 	

4   But aside from these, and the crowd's hurrahs, and 
         the land's congratulations, 	
Admitting around me comrades close, unseen by the 
         the rest, and voiceless, 	
I chant this chant of my silent soul, in the name of all 
         dead soldiers. 	

5   Faces so pale, with wondrous eyes, very dear, gather 
         closer yet; 	
Draw close, but speak not.	
6   Phantoms, welcome, divine and tender! 	
Invisible to the rest, henceforth become my compan- 
         ions; 	
Follow me ever! desert me not, while I live. 	

7   Sweet are the blooming cheeks of the living! sweet 
         are the musical voices sounding! 	
But sweet, ah sweet, are the dead, with their silent eyes. 	

8   Dearest comrades! all now is over; 	
But love is not over—and what love, O comrades! 	
Perfume from battle-fields rising—up from fœtor 
         arising. 	

9   Perfume therefore my chant, O love! immortal Love! 	
Give me to bathe the memories of all dead soldiers. 	

10   Perfume all! make all wholesome! 	
O love! O chant! solve all with the last chemistry. 	

11   Give me exhaustless—make me a fountain, 	
That I exhale love from me wherever I go, 	
For the sake of all dead soldiers.