The Patriot Dead

No tears for them!—they never knewThe shrinking, coward painOf hearts that know a fetter's weight,And beat beneath a chain;They hallowed with their earliest breathThe land for which they bled;Chant honor's paean-note to DeathAbove the patriot dead.

No tears for them!—the lofty-toned!The beautiful! the high!There is no sorrow in the voiceThat summons such to die.Oh! loop our country's ensign whereIts starry folds may spreadThe glory that they died to guard,Above the patriot dead.

No tears for them!—the bright! the brave!Weep for the coward life,That dares not go where honor calls,And, shrinking, shuns the strife;But speak of them with reverent eye,Awed voice, and low-bowed head,And teach your babes 'twere proud to dieLike them—the patriot dead.