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Rh By candlelight he wrote the will,

And left his all

To Her for whom 'twas not enough to fall;

Loud neighed Orion

Without the tent; drums beat; we marched with Lyon.

The night-tramp done, we spied the Vale

With guard-fires lit;

Day broke, but trooping clouds made gloom of it:

"A field to die on"

Presaged in his unfaltering heart, brave Lyon.

We fought on the grass, we bled in the corn—

Fate seemed malign;

His horse the Leader led along the line—

Star-browed Orion;

Bitterly fearless, he rallied us there, brave Lyon.

There came a sound like the slitting of air

By a swift sharp sword—

A rush of the sound; and the sleek chest broad

Of black Orion

Heaved, and was fixed; the dead mane waved toward Lyon.