I do not dread to die alone e’en here,

As yon brave men have died.

But oh, great God! I would not feel the beak

Of yon dark vulture tear away my heart;

Not that I wish my failing strength to eke—

A soldier’s death it was my joy to seek,

Wounded, alone, I have no other art

To save me. Let me die.


HISTORY OF THE COSTUME OF MEN,