Refusing every base compliance—
Your Praise within, your Prize above,
And live and die in Self-Reliance!
THE BURIAL.[82] ]
Why rings the knell of the funeral bell from a hundred village shrines?
Through broad Fingall, where hasten all those long and ordered lines?
With tear and sigh they're passing by—the matron and the maid—
Has a hero died—is a nation's pride in that cold coffin laid?
With frown and curse, behind the hearse, dark men go tramping on—