University of Virginia Library


17

AFTER ALMA.

God be with ev'ry man who fell or fought!
Let that stern Marshal ever honoured be,
Who asked the price of dazzling victory—
Life! And he threw his down. There slumbers not
'Mong our brave dead a braver man than he.
The proudest tears into my eyes are brought
By the plumed soldiers of my native land.
Sons are they of that worn and wasted band,
Who stood around their king the while the night
Darkened on Flodden. Oh! with hearts as light
As if these wild heights were a summer feat,
They marched to death. Their ruined ranks were true
As crumbling squares at deadly Waterloo,
On which vain hurricanes of battle beat.