Period of honour as of woes,
What bright careers ’twas thine to close!--
Mark’d on thy roll of blood what names
To Britain’s memory, and to Fame’s,
Laid there their last immortal claims!
Thou saw’st in seas of gore expire
Redoubted PICTON’S soul of fire--
Saw’st in the mingled carnage lie
All that of PONSONBY could die--
DE LANCY change Love’s bridal-wreath,
For laurels from the hand of Death--
Saw’st gallant MILLER’S failing eye
Still bent where Albion’s banners fly,
And CAMERON, in the shock of steel,
Die like the offspring of Lochiel;
And generous GORDON, ’mid the strife,
Fall while he watch’d his leader’s life.--
Ah! though her guardian angel’s shield
Fenced Britain’s hero through the field,
Fate not the less her power made known,
Through his friends’ hearts to pierce his own!