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Flowers left for Isaac Mouser
Tread lightly, 'tis a soldiers grave, A lonely, mossy mound; And yet to hearts like mine and thine It should be holy ground. Speak softly, let no careless laugh, No idle, thoughtless jest, Escape your lips where sweetly sleeps The hero in his rest. For him no reveille will beat When morning beams shall come; For him, at night, no tattoo rollsIts thunders from the drum. Tread lightly! for a man bequeathed, Ere laid beneath this sod, His ashes to his native land, His gallant soul to God.
- sam sproles
 Added: Aug. 23, 2006

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