The shadows //are
lengthening for me. //
The twilight is here. //
My days of old //have
vanished,//tone and tint. //
They have gone //glimmering
//
through the dreams //of
things that were. //
Their memory //is one //of wondrous beauty,//
watered /by tears,//
and coaxed /and caressed /by the smiles of yesterday. //
I listen //vainly,//
but with thirsty ears,//
for the witching melody //of
faint bugles //blowing reveille,//
of far drums //beating
the long roll. //
In my dreams//
I hear again /the crash
of guns,//the rattle of musketry,//
the strange,//mournful /mutter
of the battlefield. //
But /in the evening of my
memory,//
always //I come back //to West Point. //
Always //there echoes /and re-echoes: /Duty,/Honor,Country. /
Today //marks /my final /roll
call /with you,//
but I want you to know //that
when I cross the river//
my last /conscious thoughts
//will be/
of The Corps,//and The Corps,//and The Corps. //
I bid you /farewell. //