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33. the dead warrior.

by Park Benjamin.
Bind the oak leaves round his head;
     He has shown himself a man;
Bravely charging, he fell dead,
     Fighting foremost in the van.

Cheering with a mighty cheer,
     On he led the serried band;
Now he lies upon his bier,
     Cold and stately, still and grand.

Calmly gather round him now,
     All ye soldiers, and be dumb;
Cast one look upon his brow
     As you hear the muffled drum.

Then, with solemn feet, and slow,
     Mourning for his early doom,
With your folded banners go,
     Lay the hero in his tomb.

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