  Afar my loyal spirit stirred At mention of his name; Afar in ringing notes I heard The clarion voice of fame; So to his tomb, hope long deferred, With reverent step I came. The pilgrim muse revivified A half-forgotten day: A slow procession, tearful-eyed, In funeral array, And from MacGregor's lonely side A hero borne away. Here sleeps he now, where long ago Hath nature raised his mound: A mighty channel far below, Divided hills around, Where countless thousands come and go As to a shrine renowned. With awe do strangers' eyes discern A casket mid the green Luxuriance of flower and fern; Airy and cool and clean, This charnel chamber scene. His country's weal his care and thought, Beloved in peace was he; Magnanimous in war—shall not The nation grateful be, And render at his burial spot A testimonial free? Oh, let us, ere the days come on When energy is spent, To him, the silent soldier gone, Statesman and President, On Riverside's majestic lawn Uprear a monument. |
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