BY THE FLOW of the inland river,

Whence the fleets of iron have fled,

Where the blades of the grave grass quiver,

Asleep are the ranks of the dead;-

Under the sod and the dew, Waiting the judgment day;-

Under the one, the Blue; Under the other, the Gray.

These in the robings of glory,

Those in the gloom of defeat,

All with the battle blood gory,

In the dusk of eternity meet;-

Under the sod and the dew, Waiting the judgment day;-

Under the laurel, the Blue; Under the willow, the Gray.

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.

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.

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.

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.

No more shall the war cry sever,

Or the winding rivers be red;

They banish our anger forever

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.