Classic Poem

Proudly rear thy towering head,
And spread thy sheltering branches round
The spot on which Cadogan bled,
For sacred is the honored ground!

Where Henry's dying eyes beheld
Gallia's proud eagles put to flight;
Liv'd till he saw the foe repell'd,
And died while gazing on the sight!

And while all Europe mourn'd his fate,
And Senates dwell upon his praise,
His high descent, his early date,
His modest worth, in heartfelt lays—

Let Downham's shades with thine entwine
The cypress wreath of solemn woe,
To decorate the awful shrine
Of him who bravely fought the foe.

And on his honor'd bier shall fall
The anguish'd tears Affection sheds,
And Gratitude's fond voice recall
The virtues of the mighty dead!