Iii

Those that in the combat perished,-- Hostile shapes and forms of friends,-- Those we hated, those we cherished, Meet the pageant where it ends. Flash of steel and tears forgiving Blend in splendor. Hark, the knell! Comrades ghostly join the living-- Dreaming, chanting: "All is well." They receive the General sleeping, Him of spirit pure and large: Him they draw into their keeping Evermore, in faithful charge.