 
Hush—let no whisper of the cruel strife, Wherein he fell so bravely fighting, fall Nigh these dead ears; fain would our hearts recall Nought but proud memories of a noble life— Of unmatched skill to lead by pathways rife With danger and dark doubt, where slander's knife Gleamed ever bare to wound, yet over all He pressed triumphant on—lo, thus to fall. Through and beyond the breach he living made Shall Erin pass to freedom and to will, And shape her fate: there where his limbs are laid No harsh reproach dare penetrate the shade; Death's angel guards the door, and o'er the sill A mightier voice than Death's speaks "Peace, be still!" |
|
