Classic Poem

On the Death of Major John P ALLSGRAVE W YLLYS .

Belov'd in life! and mourn'd in death! when slain,
Where flow'd the sanguine flood of savage war —
Where white with red men mingling press'd the plain,
Thy bones long bleaching in lone fields afar:

Thee, Wyllys! thee, the sighing winds deplore,
Through wilds where axe-men erst no branch had fell'd:
Still mourns for thee, Ohio's peopling shore,
His groves (where late the painted warriors yell'd)
Vocal with grief, with tears his waters swell'd.

No friend was nigh to lave thy clotted wound,
Catch thy last breath, and close thy bursting eyes;
Yet thee full cities wail in woe prefound —
Thy friends, thy sire, beyond funereal cries,
Stifle in dumb despair abortive groans and sighs. —