Triumphant waved our flag one day—
He fell in the front before it.
Firm as the firmest where duty led,
He hurried without a falter;
Bold as the boldest he fought and bled.
And the day was won—but the field was red—
And the blood of his fresh young heart was shed
On his country’s hallowed altar.
On the trampled breast of the battle plain,
Where the foremost ranks had wrestled,