Ah! never shall the land forget How gushed the life-blood of her brave -

The victory of endurance born.

The gay will laugh When thou art gone, the solemn brood of care Plod on, and each one as before will chase His favourite phantom; yet all these shall leave Their mirth and their employments, and shall come, And make their bed with thee.

Pain dies quickly, and lets her weary prisoners go; the fiercest agonies have shortest reign.

Follow thou thy choice.

I shall seeThe hour of death draw near to me,Hope, blossoming within my heart. . . .

Sustained and soothed By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave, Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.