Salute my brethren; tell them that I died
Guiltless; thou hast been witness of my deeds,
Hast read my inmost thoughts—and know’st it well.
Tell them I never with a traitor’s shame
Stain’d my bright sword. Oh, never!—I myself
Have been ensnared by treachery. Think of me
When trumpet-notes are stirring every heart,
And banners proudly waving in the air,—
Think of thine ancient comrade! And the day
Following the combat, when upon the field,