William McCarty, comp. The American National Song Book. 1842.
The Hero of ErieA
And to my fond arms bade a tender adieu,
In hopes to return with the laurels of glory,
And reap all the fruits of affection so true;
Had said that I ne’er should behold him again;
In the cold, silent grave, my sweet William, neglected,
Lies far from his love, among heaps of the slain.
Contending with Britons by Erie’s dark wave,
O! had I been there to expire with my lover,
Nor lived thus a victim to wo for the brave.
A few years, at most, shall thy William restore;
In the pure land of heroes with transport I’ll join him,
Where war and where death shall divide us no more.