Death for thy bans, Death for thy bridal-dress,
Death for thy ring. Death for thy wedding-night.
And is not that more than a heart could ask,
Yea, verily, the highest gift wherewith
Heaven can adorn and crown a woman's life,
To fight, to bleed, to die beside her lover,
In righteous cause and heavenward rise with him
Upon the pinions of a glorious deed.
Upon the rosy cloud of fame eternal,
'Mid the applause of both the Earth and Heaven?
Or wouldest thou that I, year after year,
Pine, languish, waste away in self-torment,
To join my hero in the light above?
No, I will die with thee, die at thy side.
Col. Wm. Travis.
No, Elsie, no! thy pure and stainless hand,
That knew in life nought else but charity,
Must not by bloodshed be profaned in death;
Nor must thou self endure the cruelties
Of bloody fray, which spares nor age nor sex.
Should I behold by savage thrust laid ope
The tender breast, whose secrecy was mine?
Or witness how thy graceful form is soiled
With bloody gore or trampled in the dust?
That memory would haunt me e'en in heaven.
It must not be, fain as I had thee nigh me,