Verse > Anthologies > William McCarty, ed. > The American National Song Book
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William McCarty, comp.  The American National Song Book.  1842.
 
The Tomb of the Brave
By Joseph Hutton (1787–1828)
 
In commemoration of the battle on the Wabash

WHEN darkness prevail’d, and aloud on the air
  No war-whoop was heard through the deep silence yelling,
Till, fiercely, like lions just wild from their lair,
  Our chiefs found the foe on their slumbers propelling,
        While the mantle of night        5
        Hid the savage from sight,
Undismay’d were our warriors slain in the fight:
  But the laurel shall ever continue to wave,
  And glory thus bloom o’er the tomb of the brave.
 
Brave Daviess, legitimate offspring of fame,        10
  Though new to the war, rush’d to battle undaunted;
And ere, bearing death, the dread rifle-ball came,
  In the breast of the foe oft his weapon he planted.
          Gallant Daviess, adieu!
          Tears thy destiny drew;        15
But yet o’er thy body shall tremble no yew,
  For the laurel shall ever continue to wave,
  And glory thus bloom o’er the tomb of the brave.
 
Great Owen, too bold from the fight to remain,
  Rush’d on to the foe, every soldier’s heart firing;        20
But he sinks, in the blood of his foes, on the plain,
  The pale lamp of life in its socket expiring;
          Closed in death are his eyes,
          And lamented he lies;
Yet o’er the sad spot shall no cypress arise:        25
  But the laurel forever continue to wave,
  And glory thus bloom o’er the tomb of the brave.
 
Long Warwick, M’Mahan, and Spencer, and Baen,
  And Berry, mid darkness their banners defended
But when day drew the curtain of night, they were seen        30
  Cover’d o’er with the blood of the savage, extended.
          Though Freedom may weep
          Where they mouldering sleep,
Yet shall valour their death as a jubilee keep,
  For the laurel shall ever continue to wave,        35
  And glory thus bloom o’er the tomb of the brave.
 
Ye chiefs of the Wabash, who gallantly fought,
  And fearlessly heard the dread storm of war rattle,
Who lived to see conquest so terribly bought,
  While your brothers were lost in the uproar of battle,        40
          Still fearless remain,
          And, though stretch’d on the plain,
You shall rise on the records of freedom again,
  For the laurel shall ever continue to wave,
  And glory thus bloom o’er the tomb of the brave.        45
 
Ye sons of Columbia, when danger is nigh,
  And liberty calls, round her standard to rally,
For your country, your wives, and your children to die,
  Resolve undismay’d on oppression to sally.
          Every hero secure        50
          That his fame shall endure
Till eternity time in oblivion immure,
  For the laurel shall ever continue to wave,
  And glory thus bloom o’er the tomb of the brave.
 
 
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