Old trees

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Old tress,old trees! In you mystic gloom There's many a warrior laid, and many a nameless and lonely tomb is sheltered beneath your shade. 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".