But one more will be particularly mentioned here, in reference to whom Brigade Surgeon Clarke uses this language, in a letter informing his friends of his death: “he was a brave, conscientious and faithful soldier.” And what shall I say of thee, my brother, my faithful friend? Though the snows of seven winters have in their season robed thy grave with a stainless winding-sheet, yet is thy memory cherished fondly as at first: still shall the flowers of each succeeding summer strew that grave, and the lofty pines of thy native state shall furnish thy requiem.
| “How sleep the brave, who sink to rest By all their Country’s wishes blest: By fairy hands their knell is rung; By forms unseen their dirge is sung; Here Honor comes, a pilgrim gray, To deck the turf that wraps their clay; And Freedom shall awhile repair To dwell, a weeping hermit, there.” Collins. |
