206
SONGS FROM THE SOUTHERN SEAS.
Some distance off, in order ranged, stood men,—about a score:
God! 'twas all that now remained of my old gallant corps!
The muster-roll was being called: to every well- known name
I heard the solemn answer,—'Dead!' At length my own turn came.
I paused to hear,—a comrade answered, 'Dead! I saw him fall!'
I could not move another step, I tried in vain to call.
My life was flowing fast, and all around was gathering haze.
And o'er the heather tops I watched my comrades' cheerful blaze.
I thought such anguish as I felt was more than man could bear.
God! it was an awful thing to die with help so near!
And death was stealing o'er me: with the strength of wild despair
I raised the standard o'er my head, and waved it through the air.
