Part 19 (1/2)

O thou dead son!

O Sachal! far away, But not forgot to-day, I had a mother, too, but now have none.

IX.

Our hopes are brave.

Our faiths are braver still.

The soul shall no man kill; For G.o.d will find us, each one in his grave.

X.

A land more vast Than Europe's kingdoms are,-- A brighter, n.o.bler star Than victory's fearful light,--is thine at last.

XI.

And should'st thou meet Yon Germans up on high,-- Thy foes when death was nigh,-- Nor thou nor they will sound the soul's retreat.

XII.

For all are just, Yea, all are patriots there, And thou, O Fils de Pierre!

Hast found thy marshal's baton in the dust.

XIII.

Oh, farewell, friend; My friend, albeit unknown, Save in thy death alone, Oh, fare thee well till sin and sorrow end.

XIV.

In realms of joy We'll meet; aye, every one: Mother and sire and son,-- And my poor mother, too, will claim her boy.

XV.

Death leads to G.o.d.

Death is the Sword of Fate, Death is the Golden Gate That opens up to glory, through the sod.

XVI.

And thou that road, O Sachal! thou hast found; A king is not so crown'd As thou art, soldier! in thy blest abode.

XVII.