Think! they went forth from us, stalwart and strong,
To the cheer of the bugle, the stir the drum;
Now—who shall paint us the hospital throng?
Art is palsied, and Eloquence dumb!
Valor, brought from the hard-fought field;
Patience, learned of prolonged disease;
Silent anguish, and pain concealed;—
Oh! what shall we do for heroes like these?
We, whose places may not be found
Up and down in those pitiful ranks;
Who fill no cup on the battle-ground
For lips too lifeless to smile their thanks;
What shall we do for them? We have Wealth
And Plenty, growing in quiet and ease;
Skill that is better, and cheerful Health
Whose cup of labor is clear of lees.
What shall we do? Let us one and all
Bring the gain of our toil, the fruit of our rest,
To those who answered our Country's call,
And out of God's bounty gave their best!