BY WM. ALEXANDER.
A sculptured cenotaph thy sons will raise,
That they eternize may thy honored name;
Nor this, nor Story's scroll can tell thy praise,
So blended with thy glorious country's fame.
Lo! in a corner of Mount Vernon's field,
Past which Potomac's peaceful waters flow,
Reclined hast thou upon thy sacred shield,
To sleep till the archangel's trumpet blow.
Around thy lone and ever-honored grave,