Page:Landon in Literary Gazette 1835.pdf/16



There was song amid the leaves, as if Apollo had suspended His old heroic lyre amid the thick green shade— He the god of bard and hero:—too soon the music ended— A storm in early summer, low the youthful oak-tree laid.

Too soon death seized my bravest,—in the first spring-tide of honour He fell in glorious battle, a hero and a bard; Dear was the debt which his country took upon her,— Her praise and her remembrance is the patriot's reward.

First in the holy warfare for liberty he perished— The path in which he led to the youthful brave belongs; Follow ye his footsteps—so be his memory cherished, While nightingales amid the boughs mourn for his lovely songs. L. E. L.