Bring them home gently,
Our hero's now at rest,
Wrap the stars and stipes around them,
Lay a hand across each breast.
Bring them home gently,
Lay them quietly in their grave,
Promise always to remember,
The sacrifice that they made.
Bless those who wait the soldier's love,
Who never more shall know,
The loving touch and fond embrace,
Of those they must let go.
Shall we ever stop the flowing,
Of the tears that start to fall,
For our hero's, those returning,
Who died and gave their all?
Now asleep in the arms of God,
They died for you and me,
And braved the perils of a war,
No, freedom isn't free.
Bring them home gently
By
Richard Netherland Cook
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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