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Oh, no—not a heart, that e'er knew him, but
mourns, Deep, deep o'er the grave, where such glory
is shrined O'er a monument Fame will preserve, 'mong the
urns Of the wisest, the bravest, the best of mankind !
OH, THE SIGHT ENTRANCING.
Oh, the sight entrancing,
O’er files, array'd
With helm and blade, And plumes, in the gay wind dancing! When hearts are all high beating! And the trumpet's voice repeating
That song, whose breath
May lead to death,
With helm and blade,
Yet, 'tis not helm or featherFor ask yon despot, whether · His plumed bands
Could bring such hands And hearts as ours together. Leave pomp to those who need 'emAdorn but Man with freedom,
And proud he braves
The gaudiest slaves, That crawl, where monarchs lead 'em. The sword may pierce the beaver, Stone walls in time may sever,
'Tis heart alone,
Worth steel and stone, That keeps men free for ever! Oh, that sight entrancing, When the morning's beam is glancing
O'er files, array’d
With helm and blade, And in Freedom's cause advancing.