O’er thy gentle head;
Thou that, like a dewdrop borne
On a sudden breeze of morn,
Brightly thus hast fled!
THE BED OF HEATH.
“Soldier, awake! the night is past;
Hear’st thou not the bugle’s blast?
Feel’st thou not the dayspring’s breath?
Rouse thee from thy bed of heath!
Arm, thou bold and strong!