By a proudly mournful band.
In the camp, on the steed, to the bugle’s blast,
Thy long bright years had sped;
And a warrior’s bier was thine at last,
When the snows had crown’d thy head.
Many had fallen by thy side, old chief!
Brothers and friends, perchance;
But thou wert yet as the fadeless leaf,
And light was in thy glance.
The soldier’s heart at thy step leapt high,