No need of stone to mark the place
Where buried lie the glorious dead.
Our hearts their sepulcher doth grace
And in our souls a halo trace
As light to show the way they led.
No need of blossoms, leaves, or wreath
To cheer their nameless couch and cold.
The only flower that decks the heath
And flourishes in winter's teeth
The flag they fought for doth unfold.
No need of long and fervent prayer
At heaven's gate to speed them well:
For God receives them, full aware
On earth they nobly did their share
When they for home and country fell.
-- L. Houzeau.
La Liberté (Paris).
