Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE TOMB OF THE BRAVE; IN COMMEMORATION OF BATTLE ON WABASH, by JOSEPH HUTTON



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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE TOMB OF THE BRAVE; IN COMMEMORATION OF BATTLE ON WABASH, by                    
First Line: When darkness prevail'd and aloud on the air
Last Line: And glory thus bloom o'er the tomb of the brave.
Subject(s): Middle West; Native Americans; Tippecanoe, Battle Of (1811); Midwest; Old Northwest; Central States; North Central States; Indians Of America; American Indians; Indians Of South America


WHEN darkness prevail'd and aloud on the air
No war-whoop was heard through the deep silence yelling,
Till, fiercely, like lions just wild from their lair,
Our chiefs found the foe on their slumbers propelling.
While the mantle of night
Hid the savage from sight,
Undismay'd were our warriors slain in the fight:
But the laurel shall ever continue to wave,
And glory thus bloom o'er the tomb of the brave.

Brave Daviess, legitimate offspring of fame,
Though new to the war, rush'd to battle undaunted;
And ere, bearing death, the dread rifle-ball came,
In the breast of the foe oft his weapon he planted.
Gallant Daviess, adieu!
Tears thy destiny drew;
But yet o'er thy body shall tremble no yew,
For the laurel, etc.

Great Owen, too bold from the fight to remain,
Rush'd on to the foe, every soldier's heart firing;
But he sinks, in the blood of his foes, on the plain,
The pale lamp of life in its socket expiring;
Closed in death are his eyes,
And lamented he lies;
Yet o'er the sad spot shall no cypress arise!
But the laurel, etc.

Long Warwick, M'Mahan, and Spencer, and Baen,
And Berry, 'mid darkness their banners defended,
But when day drew the curtain of night, they were seen
Cover'd o'er with the blood of the savage, extended.
Though Freedom may weep
Where they mouldering sleep,
Yet shall valor their death as a jubilee keep:
For the laurel, etc.

Ye chiefs of the Wabash, who gallantly fought,
And fearlessly heard the dread storm of war rattle,
Who lived to see conquest so terribly bought,
While your brothers were lost in the uproar of battle,
Still fearless remain,
And, though stretch'd on the plain,
You shall rise on the records of freedom again:
For the laurel, etc.

Ye sons of Columbia, when danger is nigh,
And liberty calls, round her standard to rally,
For your country, your wives, and your children to die,
Resolve undismay'd on oppression to sally.
Every hero secure
That his fame shall endure
till eternity time in oblivion immure;
For the laurel shall ever continue to wave,
And glory thus bloom o'er the tomb of the brave.





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