With wail by the sea-lakes and rock-abysses;
With moan through the vapour-trail'd wilder-
nesses;
And men sore wounded themselves drew nigh
And said, "We will go with our King and
die;"
And women wept as the pomp pass'd by.
The yellow torches far off were seen;
No war-note peal'd through the gorges green;
But the black pines echo'd the mourners' keen.