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96 THERE LET HIM SWEETLY SLEEP. THERE LET HIM SWEETLY SLEEP.*
BY GEORGE W. BUNGAY. I.
TENDERLY touch him," gently raise
The fallen hero ; let his praise Sound sweetly through the future days,
For he was brave and true. Lean him against a manly breast, Close to the heart that loves him best, Like a tired traveller taking rest, Under the arch of blue.
Then bear him to the sylvan shade, Where dew falls from the drooping blade, Like tears from the sad-hearted maid,
Whose grief no words unfold. Where the soft wind in sorrow sighs, Among wild-flowers, whose pleasant eyes Repeat the beauty of the skies, —
Starlight and blue and gold.
in. Brush from his brow the wind-tossed hair, Mingled like cloud and sunshine there,
* Written in relation to the death of General Lyon.