3. From the silence of sorrowful hours,
The desolate mourners go,
Lovingly laden with flowers,

Alike for the friend and the foe ;-
Under the sod and the dew,
Waiting the judgment day :
Under the roses, the Blue;
Under the lilies, the Gray.

4. So, with an equal splendor,
The morning sun-rays fall,
With a touch impartially tender,
On the blossoms blooming for all ;-
Under the sod and the dew,
Waiting the judgment day :
Broidered with gold, the Blue;
Mellowed with gold, the Gray.

5. So, when the summer calleth,
On forest and field of grain,
With an equal murmur falleth
The cooling drip of the rain ;-
Under the sod and the dew,
Waiting the judgment day :
Wet with the rain, the Blue;
Wet with the rain, the Gray.

6. Sadly, but not with upbraiding,
The generous deed was done;

In the storm of the years that are fading
No braver battle was won;

Under the sod and the dew,

Waiting the judgment day :
Under the blossoms, the Blue;
Under the garlands, the Gray.

7. No more shall the war-cry sever, Or the winding rivers be red;

They banish our anger for ever,

When they laurel the graves of our dead;-
Under the sod and the dew,

Waiting the judgment day :
Love and tears, for the Blue;

Tears and love for the Gray.

CXII. THE SONG OF THE SHIRT.

1. With fingers weary and worn,
With eyelids heavy and red,

A woman sat, in unwomanly rags,
Plying her needle and thread.
Stitch! stitch! stitch!

In poverty, hunger, and dirt;

And still, with a voice of dolorous pitch,
She sang the "Song of the Shirt!"

2. "Work! work! work!

While the cock is crowing aloof!
And work-work-work

Till the stars shine through the roof!

It's oh! to be a slave

Along with the barbarous Turk, Where woman has never a soul to save, If this is Christian work!

3. "Work-work-work

Till the brain begins to swim;
Work-work-work

Till the eyes are heavy and dim!
Seam and gusset and band,
Band and gusset and seam-
Till over the buttons I fall asleep,
And sew them on in a dream!

4. "O men, with sisters dear!

O men, with mothers and wives!
It is not linen you're wearing out,
But human creatures' lives!
Stitch-stitch-stitch,

In poverty, hunger, and dirt—
Sewing at once, with a double thread,
A shroud as well as a shirt!

5. "But why do I talk of Death,
That phantom of grisly bone?
I hardly fear his terrible shape,
It seems so like my own-
It seems so like my own

Because of the fasts I keep;

O God! that bread should be so dear,
And flesh and blood so cheap!

6. "Work-work-work!

My labor never flags;

And what are its wages? A bed of straw, A crust of bread-and rags;

That shattered roof-and this naked floor-
A table-a broken chair-

And a wall so blank, my shadow I thank
For sometimes falling there!

7. "Work-work-work

From weary chime to chime! Work-work—work—

As prisoners work for crime! Band and gusset and seam,

Seam and gusset and band

Till the heart is sick and the brain benumbed,

As well as the weary hand!

8. "Work-work-work

In the dull December light!

And work-work-work

When the weather is warm and bright !—

While underneath the eaves

The brooding swallows cling,

As if to show me their sunny backs
And twit me with the spring.

9. "Oh but to breathe the breath

Of the cowslip and primrose sweet

With the sky above my head,

And the grass beneath my feet!

For only one short hour

To feel as I used to feel,

Before I knew the woes of want

And the walk that costs a meal!

10. "Oh! but for one short hour-
A respite however brief!

No blessed leisure for love or hope,
But only time for grief!

A little weeping would ease my heart;
But in their briny bed

My tears must stop, for every drop
Hinders needle and thread !"

11. With fingers weary and worn,
With eyelids heavy and red,
A woman sat, in unwomanly rags,
Plying her needle and thread.
Stitch! stitch! stitch!

In poverty, hunger, and dirt;

And still with a voice of dolorous pitch-
Would that its tone could reach the rich !—
She sang this "Song of the Shirt!"

CXIII. THE SHIP OF STATE.
1. Sail on, sail on! O Ship of State!
Sail on, O Union, strong and great!
Humanity, with all its fears,

With all the hopes of future years,