IT is not the fear of death That damps my brow, It is not for another breath I ask thee now; I can die with a lip unstirr'd And a quiet heart -- Let but this prayer be heard Ere I depart. I can give up my mother's look -- My sister's kiss; I can think of love -- yet brook A death like this! I can give up the young fame I burn'd to win -- All -- but the spotless name I glory in. Thine is the power to give, Thine to deny, Joy for the hour I live -- Calmness to die. By all the brave should cherish, By my dying breath, I ask that I may perish By a soldier's death! |