Historic Sheet Music Collection

Document Type

Score

Publication Date

1840

Comments

The Soldiers Grave, Monody on the death of Sir John Moore. Poetry by the Revd. Chas. Wolfe, the music by Thomas Williams. Boston: Published by C. Bradlee, 107 Washington Street.

Some of these resources may contain offensive language or negative stereotypes. Such materials should be seen in the context of the time period and as a reflection of the attitudes of the time. The items are part of the historical record, and do not represent the views of the libraries or the institution.

Abstract

Not a drum was heard nor a fun'ral note,
As his corse to the ramparts we hurried,
Not a soldier discharg'd his farewell shot
O'er the grave where our Hero we buried.
We buried him darkly at dead of night,
The turf with our bay'nets turning
By the struggling moonbeams misty light,
And our lanterns dimly burning,
By the struggling moonbeams misty light,
And our lanterns dimly burning.

Few and short were the pray'rs we said,
And we spoke not, a word of sorrow,
But we stedfastly gaz'd on the face of the dead!
And we bitterly thought on the morrow!
No useless Coffin confin'd his breast,
Nor in sheet nor in shroud we bound him,
But he lay like a Warrior taking his rest, with his
Martial Cloak around him!
But he lay like a warrior taking his rest, with his
Martial Cloak around him!

But half our heavy task was done,
When the Clock told the hour for retiring
And we heard by the distant and random gun,
That the foe was suddenly firing.
Slowly and sadly we laid him down
From the field of his fame fresh and gory
We carv'd not a line we rais'd not a stone,
But we left him alone with his glory!
We carv'd not a line we rais'd not a stone,
But we left him alone with his glory!

We thought as we heap'd his narrow bed,
And smooth'd down his lonely pillow,
That the foe and the stranger would tread o'er his head,
And we far away on the billow.
Lightly they'll talk of the spirit that's gone!
And o'er his cold ashes upbraid him,
But nothing he'll reck if they let him sleep on,
In the grave where a Briton has laid him.

Share

COinS
 

The views expressed in this paper are solely those of the author.