I have not sought in battle-field
A wreath of such renown,
Nor dared I hope, on my dying day,
To win the martyr's crown!"


XII.

"There is a chamber far away
Where sleep the good and brave,
But a better place ye have named for me
Than by my father's grave.
For truth and right, 'gainst treason's might,
This hand hath always striven,
And ye raise it up for a witness still
In the eye of earth and heaven.
Then nail my head on yonder tower--
Give every town a limb--
And God who made shall gather them:
I go from you to Him!"


XIII.

The morning dawned full darkly,
The rain came flashing down,
And the jagged streak of the levin-bolt
Lit up the gloomy town:
The heavens were thundering out their wrath,
The fatal hour was come;