.Nw.MTAzMA

The tumult of Battle had ceased. high in air The Standard of Britain triumphantly waved; And the remnant of foes had fled in despair, Whom night intervening from slaughter had saved. When a Vetiran was seen by the light of his lamp Slowpacing the bounds of the carcase strewn plain Not base his intent- for he quitted the camp To comfort the dying, not plunder the slain. Tho dauntless in war, at a story of woe Down his age furrowed cheek the tear often ran, Alike proud to conquer or save brave foe, He fought like a Hero, but felt like a man. As he counted the slain, "Oh conquest! he cried "Thou art glorious indeed, but dearly thou'st won! "Too dearly alas! a voice faintly replied. It thrilled thro his heart- 'twas the voice of his [Son?] He listened aghast - all was silent again - He searched by the beams wch his lamp feebly shed, And found his brave Son amidst hundreds of slain, The corse of a comrade supporting his head.