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66. requiem.

by George Lunt.
Breathe, trumpets! breathe
     Slow notes of saddest wailing;
Sadly responsive peal,
     Ye muffled drums!
Comrades, with downcast eyes
     And muskets trailing!
Attend him home--
     The youthful warrior comes.

Upon his shield,
     Upon his shield returning,
Borne from the field of honor
     Where he fell--
Glory and grief, together clasped
     In mourning,
His fame, his fate,
     With sobs exulting tell.

Wrap round his breast
     The flag his breast defended--
His country's flag,
     In battle's front unrolled;
For it he died--
     On earth for ever ended,
His brave young life
     Lives in each sacred fold.

With proud, fond tears,
     By tinge of shame untainted,
Bear him, and lay him
     Gently in his grave:
Above the hero write,
     The young, half-sainted:
His country asked his life,
     His life he gave.

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