BREATHE, trumpets, breathe
Slow notes of saddest wailing,
Sadly responsive peal, ye muffled drums;
Comrades, with downcast eyes
And banners trailing,
Attend him home,
The youthful warrior comes.
-
Upon his shield,
Upon his shield returning,
Borne from the field of honor
Where he fell;
Glory and grief, together clasped
In mourning,
His fame, his fate
with sobs exulting tell.
-
Wrap round his breast
The flag his breast defended,
His country's flag,
In battle's front unrolled:
For it he died;
On earth forever ended
His brave young life
Lives in each sacred fold.
-
With proud fond tears,
By tinge of shame untainted,
Bear him, and lay him
Gently in his grave:
Above the hero write,
The young, half-sainted,
His country asked his life,
His life he gave!
-
GEORGE LUNT
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