A bugle sounds softly
The message of renown
And some inside their buildings wait
Until the flag comes down
And others run to get their cars
Quite harrowed or dimayed
Afraid they will not reach the gate
Before retreat is played
Not thinking of the flag or those
Who fought to keep it flying
How many would be glad to stand
Whose bodies now are mute
Or have no hand that they may raise
And stand in proud salute
So accept it not as duty
But a priveledge even more
And receive it as an honor
Instead of just a chore