JB/110/088/001

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Dread havoc the gun's fierce lightnings spread;
The hissing darts thro' the air were flung;
The sever'd cleft the helmet and helmed head;
And bold in the front fought the hero young:
His blade brand hew'd deep in the throng of the foe,
No fear, no force could his path arrest,
Till a deadly arrow at last laid him low, –
Dropt the sword from his hand – life fled from his breast.

At the fall of their valiant, their youthful chief,
The fruits of Victory vanish'd away;
Their valour was chang'd to deep sorrow and grief,
Round the lifeless body they stood in dismay.
His pale cheek they bath'd with their tears, they sighed
With woe, while they wash'd from his wounds the gore;
His corse, late the hope of the Army, the pride
Of his father-land in their shields they bore.

In the midst of a green and woody glade
They made for his body a silent grave
And o'er it they hung his armour, his blade
And On the lily-white scarf that his lady gave.
And thither his loved Eliza would go
From morn to even to pour her lament,
And beside his tomb in the depth of woe
Would sit, and thus to her sorrow give vent.

Identifier: | JB/110/088/001"JB/" can not be assigned to a declared number type with value 110.
Date_1		Marginal Summary Numbering
Box	110	Main Headings
Folio number	088	Info in main headings field
Image	001	Titles
Category	collectanea	Number of Pages	2
Recto/Verso	recto	Page Numbering
Penner		Watermarks	[[watermarks::[partial motif]]]
Marginals		Paper Producer
Corrections		Paper Produced in Year
Notes public		ID Number	36078
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