It is not the fear of death
That damps my brow;
It is not for another breath
I ask thee now;
I can die with a lip unstirr'd
And a quiet heart —
Let but this prayer be heard
Ere I depart.
I can give up my mother's look —
My sister's kiss;
I can think of love — yet brook
A death like this!
I can give up the young fame
I burn'd to win —
All — but the spotless name
I glory in!
Thine is the power to give,
Thine to deny,
Joy for the hour I live —
Calmness to die.
By all the brave should cherish,
By my dying breath,
I ask that I may perish
With a soldier's death!