Were trampled by a hurrying crowd,
And fiery hearts and armed hands
Encounter’d in the battle-cloud.
Ah! never shall the land forget
How gush’d the life-blood of her brave,—
Gush’d, warm with hope and courage yet,
Upon the soil they fought to save.
Now all is calm, and fresh, and still,
Alone the chirp of flitting bird,
And talk of children on the hill,