James and Mary Ford, eds. Every Day in the Year. 1902.
May 17On the Death of General Worth
By George W. Cutter (d. 1865)
N
Arouse the morning ray,
And only with the setting sun
In echoes die away.
The muffled drum, the wailing fife,
Ah! let them murmur low,
O’er him who was their breath of life,
The solemn notes of woe!
On Polaklaba’s field,
Around him fell the crimson rain,
The battle-thunder pealed;
But proudly did the soldier gaze
Upon his daring form,
When charging o’er the cannon’s blaze
Amid the sulphur storm.
Again his flag unrolled,
And when the grape-shot rent away
Its latest starry fold,
His plumed cap above his head
He waved upon the air,
And cheered the gallant troops he led
To glorious victory there.
In darkness walks abroad
The pestilence, whose silent stroke
Is like the doom of God!
And the hero by its fell decree
In death is sleeping now,
With the laurel wreath of victory
Still green upon his brow!