Fold up the gorgeous silken sun,
By bleeding martyrs blest,
And heap the laurels it has won,
Above its place of rest.
No trumpet’s note harshly blast—
No drum funeral roll—
No trailing sabres drape the bier
That frees a dauntless soul!
It lived with Lee, and decked his brow
From Fate’s empyreal Palm;
It sleeps the sleep of Jackson now—
As spotless and as calm.
It was outnumbered—no outdone;
And they shall shuddering tell
Who struck the blow, its latest gun
Flashed ruin as it fell.
Sleep, shrouded Ensign! Not the breeze
That smote the victor tar
With death across the heaving seas
Of fiery Trafalgar;
Not Arthur’s knights, amid the gloom
Their knightly deeds have starred;
Not Gallic Henry’s matchless plume,
Nor peerless-born Bayard;
Not all the antique fables fame,
And orient dreams disgorge;
Not yet the silver cross of Spain,
And lion of St. George.
Can bid thee pale! Proud emblem, still
They crimson glory shines
Beyond the lengthened shades that fill
Their proudest kingly lines.
Sleep in thine own historic night!
And be they blazoned scroll,
A warrior’s Banner takes its flight,
To greet the warrior’s soul!
This poem, along with many others, can be found in the historical reprint entitled A Confederate Scrap-Book by Lizzie Cary Daniel. Mrs. Daniel survived the war, all while collecting news articles, poems, songs, and anecdotes to compile into one publication. This was originally printed in 1893 and is an excellent source for Confederates: