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letra de the soldier's funeral - letitia elizabeth landon - ghizela rowe

and the m-ffled drum roll’d on the air
warriors with stately step were there;
on every arm was the black cr-pe bound
every carbine was turn’d to the ground;
solemn the sound of their measured tread
as silent and slow they follow’d the dead
the riderless horse was led in the rear
there were white plumes waving over the bier;
helmet and sword were laid on the pall
for it was a soldier’s funeral

that soldier had stood on the battle-plain
where every step was over the slain:
but the brand and the ball had pass’d him by
and he came to his native land to die
‘twas hard to come to that native land
and not clasp one familiar hand!
‘twas hard to be number’d amid the dead
or ere he could hear his welcome said!
but ’twas something to see its cliffs once more
and to lay his bones on his own loved shore;
to think that the friends of his youth might weep
o’er the green grass turf of the soldier’s sleep

the bugles ceased then: wailing sound
as the coffin was lower’d into the ground;
a volley was fired, a blessing said
one moment’s pause – and they left the dead! –
i saw a poor and an aged man
his step was feeble, his lip was wan:
he knelt him down on the new raised mound
his face was bow’d on the cold damp ground
he raised his head, his tears were done, –
the father had pray’d o’er his only son!

- ghizela rowe

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