With slow, sad steps I press me on To a majestic tower of stone, That tells me they who sleep around Had for their country’s weal laid down Their lives. Ah! many a widowed heart Hath bent and broke with sorrow’s dart, For him who now beneath the sod, Yielded his spirit to his God.

And many a youth with trappings gay, ’Mid martial music liveliest, lay, No more in life returned to bless Their loved ones with a fond caress, But laid them down to their last sleep In stranger land. Now angels keep A loving vigil o’er each grave, And bending branches o’er them wave.