Page:Landon in Literary Gazette 1835.pdf/14

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is my soldier's grave—where have you laid him? Sculptured aisles and vaulted tombs to sleep among? A nobler urn hath the memory made him Of a life that was devoted unto war and unto song.

He is laid on the battle-field—there the youth slumbers, Where war's mighty sacrifice is offered unto death; There did his spirit pour its latest numbers— "Bless me, oh my father!" sighed the hero's dying breath.

Ye, who so dearly held him, now follow me with weeping— Yonder the green hillock his lowly grave above— There the oak, tall and old, its shadowy watch is keeping— There was the hero laid by brave men in their love.

Well may the young and true weep above his ashes, Honouring the unforgotten one who slumbereth here; Yet, amid the fields of death, where the red war-spear flashes, German hearts will hold his remembrance dear.