ODE
,
Written
in
the
same
Year
.
By
the
Same
.
HOW
sleep
the
brave
,
who
sink
to
rest
,
By
all
their
country's
wishes
blest
!
When
Spring
with
dewy
fingers
cold
,
Returns
to
deck
their
hallow'd
mold
,
She
there
shall
dress
a
sweeter
sod
,
Than
Fancy's
feet
have
ever
trod
.
By
fairy
hands
their
knell
is
rung
,
By
forms
unseen
their
dirge
is
sung
;
There
Honour
comes
,
a
Pilgrim
grey
,
To
bless
the
turf
that
wraps
their
clay
,
And
Freedom
shall
awhile
repair
,
To
dwell
a
weeping
Hermit
there
!