Who saw them live, who felt them die,
Say, let their unploughed ashes sleep,
Untouched by man, by plain or steep.
The bearded, sunbrown'd men who bore
The burthen of that frightful year,
Who toil'd, but did not gather store,
They shall not be forgotten.
Drear
And white, the plains of Shoshonee
Shall point us to that farther shore,