New-England's dead.
Oh! chant a requiem for the brave, the brave who are no more,New-England's dead! in honored rest they sleep on hill and shore,
From where the Mississippi now in freedom proudly rolls
To waves that sigh on Georgia's isles a death-hymn for their souls.
Oh! first of all, the noble blood by traitorous hand was shed;
It dyed the streets of Baltimore, New-England's heroes bled:
And still the mystic number “three” will live for aye in song
While history tells, with glowing pen, of Putnam, Shaw, and Strong.
Immortal names. O noble “three!” a nation's heart will throb
For ye who fell, in manly prime, for Freedom and for God!
And women's eyes grow dim with tears, and manhood bows its head
Before thy deeds of valor done, New-England's honored dead.
But not alone for those who die a soldier's death of glory:
Full many a brave, heroic soul has sighed its mournful story
Down in the sultry swamps and plains, where fever's subtle breath
Has drained the life-blood from their hearts, and laid them low in death--
As proud a memory yours, O ye who murmured no complaint!
Who saw Hope's vision day by day grow indistinct and faint;
Who, far from home and loving hearts, from all yet held most dear,
Have died. O noble, unknown dead! ye leave a record here!
New-England! on thy spotless shield, inscribe thine honored dead,
Oh! keep their memory fresh and green, when turf blooms o'er their head;
And coming nations yet unborn will read, with glowing pride,
Of those who bore thy conquering arms, and suffering, fought and died;
Who, foremost in the gallant van, laid life and honor down--
Oh! deck with fadeless bays their names who've won the martyr's crown.
