Which through the dark battle-cloud brilliantly shone,
Where our war-tattered banners were streaming.
With slow, solemn steps let us gather around,
The spot where his ashes lie sleeping,
And we’ll feel in our souls that ’tis hallowed ground,
Whilst in anguish unspoken we’re weeping.
“The hero has gone, but there’s still left behind,
The beauteous light of the story,
Which history will tell, as the passing years bind,
’Round his name, fresher garlands of glory.