At the head of the procession went the Commander-in-chief and the minister. By their side walked the Medical Director of the army,[40] bearing a lighted lantern in his hand. Said the clergyman: “I am reminded of the lines on ‘The Burial of Sir John Moore.’” Gen. Burnside quickly replied, striking his hand on his thigh, “I have thought of them twenty times to-day.” That lantern did duty at the grave, as the body was committed, “earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust,” in hope of the resurrection of the dead. When all was over, the General said to the minister a thoughtful word concerning the event, inevitable, awaiting all men; and then every one went his way, some to watch and some to sleep: but probably few of the company could forget the burial of Gen. R. M. Sanders, in the likeness of its circumstances to the “Burial of Sir John Moore.” “Not a drum was heard nor a funeral note As his corse to the ramparts we hurried, Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot O’er the grave where our hero we buried. We buried him darkly at dead of night, The sod with our bayonets turning, By the struggling moonbeams’ misty light, And the lantern dimly burning. Few and short were the prayers we said And we spoke not a word of sorrow, But we steadfastly gazed on the face of the dead And we bitterly thought of the morrow. * * * * * But half of our heavy task was done, When the clock struck the hour for retiring, And we knew by the distant random gun That the foe was sullenly firing. Slowly and sadly we laid him down From the field of his fame, fresh and gory, We carved not a line, we raised not a stone But we left him alone in his glory.”