I can see you smiling like a morning sun,
Your cheeks bouncing like a new born,
Your dimples appearing like no bones,
I mean bones of your face are absent, ...
DEAD, with their eyes to the foe,
Dead, with the foe at their feet;
Under the sky laid low
Truly their slumber is sweet,
Though the wind from the Camp of the
Slain Men blow,
And the rain on the wilderness beat.
