Which to the splendor of his name
On the marshal’s tomb thou ’rt casting,
Choose one more blossom, meek and still,
To soothe earth’s grief its dower,
Which may our hearts with comfort fill—
That is the passion flower,
The symbol of the Cross. When dyes
Of dawn the world astonish,
And the laurel cries, “Here a hero lies!”
This shall to prayer admonish.