National Lyrics, and Songs for Music/The Brother's Dirge

For other versions of this work, see The Brother's Dirge.


I.

THE BROTHER'S DIRGE.




In the proud old fanes of England
    My warrior fathers lie,
Banners hang drooping o'er their dust
    With gorgeous blazonry.

But thou, but thou, my brother!
    O'er thee dark billows sweep,
The best and bravest heart of all
    Is shrouded by the deep.


In the old high wars of England
    My noble fathers bled;
For her lion kings of lance and spear,
    They went down to the dead.

But thou, but thou, my brother!
    Thy life-drops flowed for me—
Would I were with thee in thy rest,
    Young sleeper of the sea.


In a sheltered home of England
    Our sister dwells alone,
With quick heart listening for the sound
    Of footsteps that are gone.

She little dreams, my brother!
    Of the wild fate we have found;
I, midst the Afric sands a slave,
    Thou, by the dark seas bound.