Ode (Botta)

For works with similar titles, see Ode.

            Our patriot sires are gone,
                The conqueror Death lays low
            Those veterans one by one,
                Who braved each other foe; --
        Though on them rests death's sable pall,
        Yet o'er their deeds no shade shall fall.
            No, ye of deathless fame!
                Ye shall not sleep unsung,
            While freedom hath a name,
                Or gratitude a tongue; --
        Yet shall your names and deeds sublime
        Shine brighter through the mists of Time.
            Oh, keep your armor bright,
                Sons of those mighty dead,
            And guard ye well the right,
                For which such blood was shed!
        Your starry flag should only wave
        O'er Freedom's home, or o'er your grave.

This work was published before January 1, 1926, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.