ss of G<mr<it It. E. Colston.
never been equalled. Gallant knights they were, Nature's own true noblemen, though coarse might be their garb, and uncouth their exterior
" Brave knights, and true as ever drew
Their swords with knightly Roland, Or died at Sobieski's side
For love of martyr'd Poland, Or knelt with Cromwell's Ironsides
Or bled with great Gustavus, Or on the plains of Austerlitz
Breathed out their dying aves ? "
Comrades of those glorious days, our ranks are forever broken, and the splendid regiments whose martial array once gladdened our eyes and our hearts, shall never answer again but to the roll call of the last day, when the trumpet of resurrection shall sound the reveille of the dead !
"They sleep their last sleep, They have fought their last battle."
" On Fame's eternal camping ground
Their silent tents are spread, And Honor guards with solemn round The bivouac of the dead."
Lightly rest the sods upon their heroic breasts ! Green forever be the mound over their sacred remains ! Let the sun at morn and eve kiss lovingly its crest ; let the gentle dews of heaven drop tenderly upon it ! Let the flowers of the earth and the birds of the air em- bellish it with their sweetest odors and most melodious sounds, and let pure hands and loving hearts watch over it with jealous care, for
"If chanted praise,
With all the world to listen ; If pride, that swells all Southern souls,
If comrades' tears that glisten ; If pilgrims' shrining love, if grief
That naught can sooth or sever, If these can consecrate this spot
Is sacred ground forever ! "