Page:Fugitive Poetry 1600-1878.djvu/252

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234

KOSCIUSKO.

Thus oft around the setting sun
Soft showers attend his parting ray,
And sinking now, his journey done,
His matchless course to evening run—
They weep his closing day.
Who hath not watched his light decline,
Till sad, yet holy feelings rise?
Although he sets again to shine,
More glorious in more cloudless skies.

As proudly shone thy evening ray,
As in that contest bright and brief,
When patriots hailed thy noontide day,
And owned thee as their chief!
Thou wert the radiant morning star,
Which bright to hapless Poland rose,
The leader of her patriot war,
The sharer of her woes!

What though no earthly triumphs grace
The spot where thou hast ta'en thy sleep;
Yet Glory points thy resting-place,
And thither Freedom turns to weep.
The pompous arch, the column's boast,
Though rich with all the sculptor's art,
Shall soon in time's dark sweep be lost;
But thou survivest in the heart,
And bright thy dwelling still shall be
Within the page of Liberty.

And o'er the turf where sleeps the brave
Such sweet and holy drops are shed—
Who would not fill a Patriot's grave,
To share them with the dead?
The laurel, and the oaken bough,
Above the meaner great may bloom,
And trophies due to Freedom's brow
May shade Oppression's tomb;—
But Glory's smile hath shed on thee
The light of immortality!