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Letitia Elizabeth Landon - The Soldier`s Grave
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THERE`S a white stone placed upon yonder tomb,
   Beneath is a soldier lying —
The death-wound came, amid sword and plume,
   When banner and ball were flying.

Yet now he sleeps, the turf on his breast,
   By wet wild flowers surrounded;
The church shadow falls o`er the place of his rest,
   Where the steps of his childhood bounded.

There were tears, that fell from manly eyes,
   There was woman`s gentle weeping,
And the wailing of age and infant cries,
   O`er the grave, where he lies sleeping.

He had left his home in his spirit`s pride,
   With his father`s sword and blessing;
He stood with the valiant, side by side,
   His country`s wrongs redressing.

He came again, in the light of his fame, 
   When the red campaign was over;
One heart, that, in secret, had kept his name,
   Was claimed by the soldier lover.

But the cloud of strife came upon the sky;—
   He left his sweet home for battle; 
Left his young child`s lisp for the loud war-cry,
   And the cannon`s long death-rattle.

He came again — but an altered man:
   The path of the grave was before him,
And the smile, that he wore, was cold and wan,
   For the shadow of death hung o`er him.

He spoke of victory — spoke of cheer:—
   These are the words, that are vainly spoken
To the childless mother, or orphan`s ear,
   Or the widow, whose heart is broken.

A helmet and sword are engraved on the stone,
   Half hidden by yonder willow;
There he sleeps, whose death in battle was won,
   But he died on his own home pillow.
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