Though the Pæan may sound, and the Beacon may blaze,
—O'erwhelmed the proud navies of France and of Spain—
Yet tears, 'mid the signs of our high exultation,
The cheek of the Firmest and Bravest may stain.
But why should we mourn for the Hero who thus
In the blaze of true glory triumphantly dies?
And bequeathing to earth an unperishing name,
In Fame's living chariot, ascends to the skies:
If the gift the most pure, and most precious to Heaven
Be the tear, for his guilt, by the Penitent shed,
The next is that life-drop the Hero has poured,
Who fought for his country, and triumphed, and bled.