William Collins(1721–1759)
Ode Written in the Beginning of the Year 1746
How sleep the brave who sink to rest
By all their country's wishes blest!
W h e n Spring, with dewy fingers cold,
Returns to deck their hallowed mold,earth
She there shall dress a sweeter sod
Than Fancy's feet have ever trod.
By fairy hands their knell is rung,
By forms unseen their dirge is sung;
There Honor comes, a pilgrim gray,
To bless the turf that wraps their clay,
And Freedom shall awhile repair,
To dwell a weeping hermit there!