When our boys come home in triumph, brother, <br />With the laurels they shall gain; <br />When we go to give them welcome, brother, <br />We shall look for you in vain. <br />We shall wait for your returning, brother, <br />Though we know it cannot be; <br />For your comrades left you sleeping, brother, <br />Underneath a southern tree. <br /> <br />Sleeping to waken <br />In this weary world no more; <br />Sleeping for your true-lov'd country, brother, <br />Sleeping for the flag you bore. <br /> <br />You were the first on duty, brother, <br />When "to arms" your leader cried-- <br />You have left the ranks forever, brother, <br />You have laid your armies aside. <br />From the awful scenes of battle, brother, <br />You were set forever free, <br />When your comrades left you sleeping, brother, <br />Underneath that southern tree. <br /> <br />You have cross'd the clouded river, brother, <br />To the mansions of the best, <br />"When the wicked cease from troubling," brother, <br />"And the weary are at rest." <br />Surely we would not recall you, brother, <br />But the tears flow fast and free, <br />When we think of you sleeping, brother, <br />Underneath a southern tree.<br /><br />Henry Clay Work<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sleeping-for-the-flag/
