III.
Leaders have fallen—we wept, but we triumphed, too—
Patriot blood never sinks in the sod;
He falls, and the jeers of the nation he bent to sue
Rise like accusing weird spirits to God.
Weep for him—weep for him—-deep is the tragedy—
Angels themselves now might doubt of God's truth;
Souls from their bloody graves, shuddering, rise to see
How he avenges their lost, murdered youth.