| |
| ON the spot where my war-couch stood, | |
| Where my spring-time of fame was pass’d, | |
| Where the patriot’s prayer, and the hero’s blood | |
| Pour’d fervently and fast— | |
| |
| Where the spirit of glory stole | 5 |
| O’er my earliest and brightest dream, | |
| With the trumpet’s blast and the drum’s rude roll, | |
| And the falchion’s dazzling gleam— | |
| |
| Lay me down on that hallow’d spot— | |
| Long in peace I may there remain; | 10 |
| For the foeman’s standard now waveth not | |
| On yonder battle-plain. | |
| |
| When this weary and struggling soul | |
| From its bondage of clay hath fled, | |
| Make my humble grave on yon grassy knoll, | 15 |
| ’T is a meet and quiet bed! | |
| |
| On its brow there ’s a blasted oak, | |
| Like its withering branch am I; | |
| Yet though ravens there may be heard to croak, | |
| Heaven’s softest breeze shall sigh:— | 20 |
| |
| And, my children, a stream glides there, | |
| Gently laving its verdant base;— | |
| Of perennial bliss ’t is an emblem fair— | |
| It shall mark my resting place! | |
| |
| Once the proud and the gallant tread | 25 |
| Of the warrior press’d that mound; | |
| But his comrades soon o’er the prostrate dead | |
| May pour the farewell round. | |
| |
| And when cometh my final strife, | |
| Let me be with my comforter, | 30 |
| That the last fond gaze of expiring life | |
| Be consecrate to her. | |
| |
| Then if far, far beyond the grave, | |
| Be the memory’s employment free, | |
| It shall cherish the look that affection gave, | 35 |
| In all eternity! | |
| |
| O! ’t is sweet, when my task is done, | |
| Thus to witness my banner furl’d:— | |
| When the storm is spent, so the setting sun | |
| Smiles on a parting world! | 40 |
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