 | Poetical Trifles |  |
24
THE WARRIOR'S DEATH.
“Dulce et decorum est pro patriâ mori.”
Hor.
Hor.
How beauteous is the Warrior's corse,
Pale lying on the gory plain!
Though mangl'd by the warring horse,
'Twill never bear a graceless stain.
Pale lying on the gory plain!
Though mangl'd by the warring horse,
'Twill never bear a graceless stain.
Amid the heaps of silent dead,
That moveless strew the trampl'd ground;
The Brave in Honour rest their head,
While blessed Spirits hover round.
That moveless strew the trampl'd ground;
The Brave in Honour rest their head,
While blessed Spirits hover round.
The livid hue of frowning Death,
May chase the glow from off the cheek;
His icy grasp may still the breath,
The dauntless voice of courage break;
May chase the glow from off the cheek;
His icy grasp may still the breath,
The dauntless voice of courage break;
25
The hissing ball may ring the air,
And sweeping hurl its victim low;
The reeking sword no soul may spare,
But ruthless wreak the murd'rous blow.
And sweeping hurl its victim low;
The reeking sword no soul may spare,
But ruthless wreak the murd'rous blow.
But Fame shall sound her clarion well,
And high extol the Sons of Mars;
Many a tongue with pride shall tell,
They bravely fought their country's wars.
And high extol the Sons of Mars;
Many a tongue with pride shall tell,
They bravely fought their country's wars.
When to battle the Warrior speeds,
When ardour seeks the marshall'd fight;
Affection soft with anguish bleeds,
For fear that death should close his sight.
When ardour seeks the marshall'd fight;
Affection soft with anguish bleeds,
For fear that death should close his sight.
The lovely maid who shares his heart,
Then trembling takes the last embrace,
And fondly hopes that he may part,
With heavenly aid to seek his place.
Then trembling takes the last embrace,
And fondly hopes that he may part,
With heavenly aid to seek his place.
26
When battle's o'er, and Peace declares
Him fallen 'mongst the victims brave;
She e'er his loss, with meekness shares,
And sweetly sorrows o'er his grave.
Him fallen 'mongst the victims brave;
She e'er his loss, with meekness shares,
And sweetly sorrows o'er his grave.
E'en in her grief there is a pride,
That breathes a mild consoling balm;
That he has nobly fought and died,
The bitter pangs of woe can calm.
That breathes a mild consoling balm;
That he has nobly fought and died,
The bitter pangs of woe can calm.
Of all the deeds that proudly claim
Th' applauding burst of Sons of Earth;
The Warrior's deeds must bloom in fame;
While time shall tell the Patriot's worth.
Th' applauding burst of Sons of Earth;
The Warrior's deeds must bloom in fame;
While time shall tell the Patriot's worth.
The hearts who love their country's cause,
And prove their zeal by feats of arms;
Alone can gain that sweet applause,
That after death yields fadeless charms.
And prove their zeal by feats of arms;
Alone can gain that sweet applause,
That after death yields fadeless charms.
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