Page:The Improvisatrice.pdf/247

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FRAGMENTS.




THE SOLDIER'S FUNERAL.


And the muffled drum rolled on the air,
Warriors with stately step were there;
On every arm was the black crape bound,
Every carbine was turned to the ground:
Solemn the sound of their measured tread,
A silent and slow they followed the dead.
The riderless horse was led in the rear,
There were white plumes waving over the bier:
Helmet and sword were laid on the pall,
For it was a soldier's funeral.