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!
(Nathaniel Parker Willis)
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