Again, when trumpets wake,
We must brace our armour on;
But a deeper note thy sleep must break—
Thou to thy rest art gone!
Happier in this than all,
That, now thy race is run,
Upon thy name no stain may fall,
Thy work hath well been done!
Elm. “Thy work hath well been done!”—so thou may’st rest!
—There is a solemn lesson in those words—