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A sun has been lost from that bright constellation,
Whose splendor illumines the sky ; It sank as we gazed in lov'd admiration; Its leaves were the glory and pride of the nation,
'Twas Liberty's symbol on high, And darkness now hangs on the face of the day ;
The illustrious hero 's at rest; But the fruit of his genius is left us to say How sublime was the Chief that is taken away ;
How much of all hearts he possessed.
On New Mexico's mountains, his banners waved
In the face of the haughtiest foe— All dangers he scorned, and all odds had he brav'd, And victory seem'd on his banners engrav'd
When his genius directed the blow : Vol Verde! a name that in song and story
Shall brighten our history's pages, 'Till crumbled in dust, is the record of glory, 'Till valor's forgotten, and nation 's grow hoary, Undimmed by the shadows of ages.
Massachusetts' black banner wav'd on Galveston's Strand,
The roll of her drums echoed nightly, (Sad sound to the freemen who dwelt on the land), It was heard by his ear, it was caught by his band,
A stain on our 'scutcheon unsightly : Night closed and morn came, what a change had been wrought!
What proud banner floateth there now ! Ah ! the victory 's won—Green the battle has fought! And the cross of the South, morning's golden beam caught;
Fresh laurels encircle his brow. |
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