Sweetly he sang, amid the clang of arms,
His numbers smooth, replete with winning charms.
In him there shone a great and godlike mind,
The poet’s wreath around the laurel twined.
This was while Colonel Humphreys was in the army—one of Washington’s aides. But when he resigned his commission,—hark! ’tis Barlow sings:—
See Humphreys glorious from the field retire,
Sheathe the glad sword and string the sounding lyre.
O’er fallen friends, with all the strength of woe,
His heartfelt sighs in moving numbers flow.
His country’s wrongs, her duties, dangers, praise,