Classic Poem

They bore him from the battle-field
And clash of arms away;
Extended on a lowly couch,
The dying hero lay.

The life-blood issues from the wound —
All human aid is vain; —
A faithful band in silence weeps
Their brave commander slain.

Through foemen's ranks he proudly rode,
They marked his lofty brow;
His keen dark eye had defiance flashed; —
But oh! he has fallen now.

He beckoned to one who near him stood —
Leaned his head on his friendly breast,
And then in accents weak and low,
These words to him addressed.

" I know that life is ebbing fast;
All, all will soon be o'er; —
My Country! I have fought for thee,
But I fight for thee no more.

" And when these eyes in death are closed,
And tolls my funeral knell,
To Cadwal'der and his brave corps,
Bear thou my last farewell. "