Page:Poems Hornblower.djvu/63

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51

Peal on! peal on! a glorious peal!
The strife is o'er, the victory his—
With folded hands, now o'er him steal
The visions of immortal bliss;
And calmly now he hears your sound,
The peace of heaven upon his brow,
His foot upon the sacred ground,—
Yes, ye have soothed the mourner now!