By the struggling moonbeam's misty light, And the lantern dimly burning. No useless coffin enclosed his breast, Not in sheet nor in shroud we wound him; But he lay like a warrior taking his rest, With his martial cloak around him. Simple English poems, ed. by H.C. Bowen - Side 9redigeret af - 1879Fuld visning
- Om denne bog
2013 - 248 sider
...with our bayonets turning, By the straggling moonbeam's misty light, And the lanthom dimly burning. Few and short were the prayers we said, And we spoke...word of sorrow ; But we steadfastly gazed on the face that was dead. And we bitterly thought of the morrow. We thought, as we bollow'd his narrow bed And...