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56
POEMS.
O, shame! for aye throughout the land
Let theirs he detestation,
Who would have manacled the hand
Of him who saved the nation;
On his high tower how harmless fall
Alike reproach and slander,
While deeds of war and peace recall
The worth of our commander.

Then wheresoever, o'er the world,
The name of "Grant" is spoken,
Let flags half-masted be unfurled
As grief's expressive token;
For naught to him are honors now
Which, through the years, have crowned him,
Who lies upon the mountain brow
His banner wrapped around him.

O let us hope, from his far height
The blessed fields Elysian,
The Promised Land appeared in sight
And cheered his waning vision.
As from McGregor's lonely crest
With rev'rent hands we bear him
Who knoweth not, in painless rest,
How ill the world can spare him.