Old trees, old trees! in your mystic gloom There's many a warrior laid, And many a nameless and lonely tomb Is sheltered beneath your shade. Old trees, old trees! without pomp or prayer We buried the brave and the true, We fired a volley and left them there To rest, old trees, with you. Old trees, old trees! keep watch and ward Over each grass-grown bed; 'Tis a glory, old trees, to stand as guard Over the Southern dead; Old trees, old trees! we shall pass away Like the leaves you yearly shed, But ye, lone sentinels, still must stay, Old trees, to guard "our dead". | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AMORETTI: 37 by EDMUND SPENSER NOREMBEGA by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER LONDON SURVEYED AND ILLUSTRATED by JOHANNEM ADAMUS THE MORAL FABLES: THE PROLOG by AESOP BEYOND THE ATOM by JANICE BLANCHARD A NEW PILGRIMAGE: 25 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |