With dignity old Seward rose,
And to a couch of state was led.
Fainting, yet firm of purpose there,
Stately as monarch on his throne,
Upright he sat, with kingly air,
To meet the coming foe, alone.
“Take from these limbs,” he weakly cried,
“This soft and womanish attire;
Let cloak and cap be laid aside—
Seward will die as died his sire: