Page:Hemans in Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine 21 and 22 1827.pdf/5



————Where hath not woman stood, Strong in affection's might?—A reed, upborne By an o'ermastering current!——

and lovely Form! What didst thou here, When the fierce battle-storm Bore down the spear?

Banner and shiver'd crest Beside thee strown, Tell, that amidst the best, Thy work was done.

Yet strangely, sadly fair, O'er the wild scene, Gleams through its golden hair That brow serene.

Low lies the stately head, Earth-bound the free;— How gave those haughty Dead A place to thee?

Slumberer! thine early bier Friends should have crown'd, Many a flower and tear Shedding around.

Soft voices, clear and young, Mingling their swell, Should o'er thy dust have sung Earth's last farewell.

Sisters, about the grave Of thy repose, Should have bid violets wave With the white rose.

Now must the trumpet’s note, Savage and shrill, For requiem o'er thee float, Thou fair and still!