Andrew Macphail, comp. The Book of Sorrow. 1916.
The Soldiers Death-bedFelicia Dorothea Hemans (17931835)
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Was this; and now my spirit, with thy beam,
Ebbs from a field of victory!—yet the hour
Bears back upon me, with a torrent’s power,
Nature’s deep longings: Oh! for some kind eye,
Wherein to meet love’s fervent farewell gaze;
Some breast to pillow life’s last agony,
Some voice, to speak of hope and brighter days,
Beyond the pass of shadows! But I go,
I that have been so loved, go hence alone;
And ye, now gathering round my own hearth’s glow,
Sweet friends! it may be that a softer tone,
Even in this moment, with your laughing glee
Mingles its cadence while you speak of me:
Of me, your soldier, ’midst the mountains lying,
On the red banner of his battles dying.