Sleep, comrades, sleep and rest

By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Sleep, comrades, sleep and rest
On this Field of Grounded Arms,
Where foes no more molest,
Nor sentry’s shot alarms!

***

Ye have slept on the ground before,
And started to your feet
At the cannon’s sudden roar,
Or the drum’s redoubling beat.

***

But in this camp of Death
No sound your slumber breaks;
Here is no fevered breath,
No wound that bleeds and aches.

***

All is repose and peace,
Untrampled lies the sod;
The shouts of battle cease,
It is the Truce of God!

***

Rest, comrades, rest and sleep!
The thoughts of men shall be
As sentinels to keep
Your rest from danger free.

***

Your silent tents of green
We deck with fragrant flowers
Yours has the suffering been,
The memory shall be ours.