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A DIRGE ON THE SAME. [EXECUTION OF PRIVATE HENRY ANDERSON.]
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 


53

A DIRGE ON THE SAME. [EXECUTION OF PRIVATE HENRY ANDERSON.]

Look! my soul, O, look and wonder!
Tears distil from every eye;
Soul and body torn asunder—
What a dreadful death I die!
Hark! the knell of death is tolling!
Just before me lies the grave!
For the pain there's no controlling—
Shoot! I fall! no longer brave!
By a martial host surrounded,
What a dreadful sight to see!
All my hopes are now confounded,
Say, what will become of me?
Hark! I hear the death drum beating!
Every pleasure sinks in gloom;
Doleful music still repeating—
Drag the culprit in his tomb!
Void of father or a mother
In this land, to take my part;
Void of sister or a brother
To appease my broken heart.
Hark! I hear imperial rebels
Rattling in accursed chains;
Crowded by a group of devils
Wailing in eternal pain!