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He fought the fight to finish,
And his soldier's work is done;
Lee ever stands immortal!
Freedom's model of a son.

As in the day of battle,
Or on his great retreat,
The center of attraction;
We come, our Lee to meet.

We've tried to mould his features,
To clothe him with a form;
To hold him up for men to see
How much he can adorn.

He came not home triumphant,
But a hero he did come;
With honor pure, unsullied,
And a love excelled by none.

No pathway strewn with flowers
Welcomed Lee back from the war,
But an anguish for his country
And the ruined homes he saw.

He, who could stand undaunted
'Midst the crash and clang of arms,
Grew grander when, disabled,
Leading comrades to their farms.

For he tread the path of duty,
And he won respect and fame,--
The proudest wreath of laurels
That a mortal man can claim.

'Tis not the smoke of battle,
The carnage, or the flame;
But we hold our Lee close to us,--
We love to call his name.

And we tell all we know of him;
And the nation yet unborn
Shall learn to know and love him
Like the fathers that have gone.