Poems (Frances Elizabeth Browne)/On the melancholy death of Lieutenant Halsted
ON THE MELANCHOLY DEATH OF LIEUTENANT HALSTED,[1]AN OFFICER OF THE 87TH FUSILIERS, INTERRED AT CHESTER, WITH MILITARY HONORS.
See that mournful array! Hark! that drum's muffled roll!'T is a solemn lament For a warrior's soul.Yes! a hero's no more; But we trust it will proveHe was only advanced To the armies above.
How fell he? In battle, While death raged around?Did he sink at the moment With victory crowned?No! a conqueror in war, He in peace met his doom,Which so suddenly hurried him Into the tomb.
In martial procession They follow the bier,While the dirge for the dead Slowly strikes on the ear;And the arms which in life He had never disgraced,In death, with deep grief, On his coffin are placed.
And now, as the corse Is inclosed in the ground,The vaulted roof echoes The awful death-sound. Hark! a third time they fire!— 'T is the soldier's last knell,And his comrades now bid him A sorrowing farewell.
- ↑ He was killed by a fall from the top of Chester castle, and was a young man of great promise, having distinguished himself in several engagements, during the Burmese war, in the East Indies.