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Poems (Trask)/Dust to Dust

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4479385Poems — Dust to DustClara Augusta Jones Trask

DUST TO DUST.
Silence all around us,
Camp-fires burning low;
Stern and gaunt, the sentries
On their slow beat go.

Here in early twilight,
Under sparkle of stars,
We have gathered in silence,
Men of battle and scars,

Gathered to bury a comrade,
Only a raw recruit;
Lying ghastly before us,
Stirless, and pale, and mute.

Grimy and brown his forehead,
Matted his curling hair;
Lift the chestnut masses,—
You'll see his death-wound there.

Cover his broad breast lightly
O'er with the faded blue;
Wrap the banner round him
Damp with the reeking dew.

Lay his rifle beside him,
Hollow his bed in the sand,—
Pile the loose soil above him
With an unsparing hand.

Read the burial-service,
"Dust return unto dust,"—
Here in the dark we leave him!
God, we are needy of trust!

Leave him! Night is advancing,
The moon is white on the hill;
The cry of the open-eyed sentry
Challenges hoarsely and shrill.

Silence, sadness, and quiet,—
Only the sea's solemn moan
Comes to our ears from the harbor,
As we leave him alone.