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The matron's foot grew slow
As she approached that shrine;
There did she lead her child,
And say, "Such fate be thine!"
As she approached that shrine;
There did she lead her child,
And say, "Such fate be thine!"
Warriors, with reverent awe
And glowing faces, gazed
Upon the trophies bright,
There unto valour raised—
And glowing faces, gazed
Upon the trophies bright,
There unto valour raised—
With flashing eye they came,
Their triumph to receive;
Fame's fan- immortal crown,
All that their land could give!
Their triumph to receive;
Fame's fan- immortal crown,
All that their land could give!
At last a meek form came,
A pure and gentle brow,
And the bright wreath was his,
But it was no warrior now.
A pure and gentle brow,
And the bright wreath was his,
But it was no warrior now.
Zeno! thy virtues gained
A triumph loftier far
Than ever hero bore,
Returning from the war!
A triumph loftier far
Than ever hero bore,
Returning from the war!
