185
THE TWO MONUMENTS.
Oh! blest are they who live and die like "him,"
Loved with such love, and with such sorrow mourn'd!
Wordsworth.
Banners hung drooping from on high
In a dim cathedral's nave,
Making a gorgeous canopy
O'er a noble, noble grave!
And a marble warrior's form beneath,
With helm and crest array'd,
As on his battle bed of death,
Lay in their crimson shade.
