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PROMOTED.
PROMOTED.
EAD, ere existence reached its perfect prime, A hero-martyr. In his morning years
He gathered up the riches of his life,
His fair, fresh youth, his high and noble hopes,
All that had been, or was, or would be dear,—
All that is possible to strong young souls,
And laid them at his suffering country's feet;
Saying, as fondly as a lover might,
"All, even to my life, is hers I love,
And so my country's." When her sorest need
Demanded at his hands the uttermost,
Behold how cheerfully he yielded it,
Dying as calmly as one falls asleep
After the perils of the day are past,
And silver-sweet the evening bugle-call
Speaks peace and rest.
The world lost much, what time our hero died,
For rarely has it owned a man like him,—
For rarely has it owned a man like him,—
