And fight for thee their sanguine battles o'er.

Oh, while such visions burst upon thy sight,

Whilst shouts of victory and dying groans

Rang on thine ear—time backward rolled his tide,

Rome in her ancient splendour proudly rose,

And murdered Cæsar lived again in thee!

Young fiery soldier!—let us track thy steps

Through danger's stormy paths, to win the goal

Of all thy lofty and ambitious hopes.

Wedded to glory, thy brave heart springs forth

To win thy bride from valour's armed hand,

And pluck the laurel from the brow of death.

A novice in the camp and new to arms,

The bugle lulls thee to repose, the trumpet

Thrills on thy sleeping ear, and bids thee dream

Of deathless fields in fancy fought and won.

At length the day of trial comes—the day

Which puts thy boasted courage to the proof—

[Pg 18]

Thy first in battle, and perchance thy last.

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