A Wreath Of Flowers

I wove me a wreath of flowers To place in memories hall, In honor of the brave and fearless men Who had answered our country's call. The men who had answered, and fought, and died For the cause of freedom, our country's pride! I wove me a wreath of flowers With many a sigh and tear, As a tribute to all the good and true Who were given few honors here. The man of humble piety Who lived and died in obscurity. A wreath of flowers, a little thing For flowers wither and fade; But the fragrance they shed is not soon forgot By me, who the wreath has made. So the virtues of those who have gone before, Will always be treasured in memory's store.

Our loved ones lay them down to sleep And leave us here to grieve and mourn, While we, our silent watches keep, O'er their low graves whence they are bourne. Some heroes are in battle slain, Their names are honored far and near, While others die on beds of pain And no sad mourner sheds a tear. This day we honor each and all Whose soul has left its temporal case; And be he great, or be he small, We'll reverence his resting place.