When comes the lighted day for men to read Life`s meaning, with the work before their hands Till this good gift of breath from debt is freed, Earth will not hear her children`s wailful bands Deplore the chieftain fall`n in sob and dirge; Nor they look where is darkness, but on high. The sun that dropped down our horizon`s verge, Illumes his labours through the travelled sky, Now seen in sum, most glorious; and `tis known By what our warrior wrought we hold him fast. A splendid image built of man has flown; His deeds inspired of God outstep a Past. Ours the great privilege to have had one Among us who celestial tasks has done.SourceThe script ran 0.001 seconds.
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