80
THE DRUMMER BOY'S BURIAL
Death had touched him very gently, and he lay as if in sleep;
Even his mother scarce had shuddered at that slumber, calm and deep.
Even his mother scarce had shuddered at that slumber, calm and deep.
For a smile of wondrous sweetness lent a radiance to the face,
And the hand of cunning sculptor could have added naught of grace
And the hand of cunning sculptor could have added naught of grace
To the marble limbs so perfect in their passionless repose,
Robbed of all save matchless purity by hard, unpitying foes.
Robbed of all save matchless purity by hard, unpitying foes.
And the broken drum beside him all his life's short story told;
How he did his duty bravely till the death-tide o'er him rolled..
How he did his duty bravely till the death-tide o'er him rolled..
Midnight came with ebon garments and a diadem of stars,
While right upward in the zenith hung the fiery planet Mars.
While right upward in the zenith hung the fiery planet Mars.
Hark! a sound of stealthy footsteps and of voices whispering low—
Was it nothing but the young leaves, or the brooklet's murmuring flow?
Was it nothing but the young leaves, or the brooklet's murmuring flow?
Clinging closely to each other, striving never to look round
As they passed with silent shudder the pale corses on the ground,
As they passed with silent shudder the pale corses on the ground,
Came two little maidens—sisters—with a light and hasty tread,
And a look upon their faces, half of sorrow, half of dread.
And a look upon their faces, half of sorrow, half of dread.
And they did not pause nor falter till, with throbbing hearts, they stood
Where the Drummer-Boy was lying in that partial solitude.
Where the Drummer-Boy was lying in that partial solitude.
