Its guardian shadow o'er me—but 'tis gone—
Fall'n is my shield, yet see now if I weep.
A British warrior's widow should not weep—
Her hero sleeps in honor's fragrant bed—
So they all tell me, and I have nobly learned
Their gallant lesson—all my tears are gone—
Bright glory's beam has dried them every drop
No,—No,—I scorn to weep—high is mine heart!
Hot are mine eyes! there's no weak water there!
'Tis time I should have joyed—what mother would not?