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101
THE BURIAL IN THE DESERT.
How weeps yon gallant Band
O'er him their valour could not save!
For the bayonet is red with gore,
And he, the beautiful and brave,
Now sleeps in Egypt's sand.
Wilson.
In the shadow of the Pyramid
Our brother's grave we made,
When the battle-day was done,
And the Desert's parting sun
A field of death survey'd.
