On a loan barren isle where the wild roaring billow
Assail the stern rock and the loud tempests rave
The hero lies still, while the dew drooping willow
Like fond weeping mourners leaned over the grave.
The lightnings may flash, and the loud thunders rattle,
He heeds not, he hears not, he's free from all pain;
He sleeps his last sleep, he has fought his last battle,
No sound can awake him to glory again ....
No sound can awake him to glory again.
Oh shades of the mighty where now are the legions
That rushed but to conquer when thou ledst them on
Alas! they have perished in far hilly regions
And all save the fame of their triumph is gone
The trumpet may sound and the loud cannon rattle
They heed not, they hear not, they're free from all pain
They sleep their last sleep, they have fought their last battle
No sound can awake them to glory again
Yet spirit immortal, the tomb cannot bind thee
For like thine own eagle that soared to the sun
Thou springest from bondage, and leavest behind thee
A name, which before thee no mortal had won
Though nations may combat, and war's thunder rattle
No more on the steed wilt thou sweep o'er the plain
Thou sleepst thy last sleep, thou hast fought thy last battle
No sound can awake thee to glory again
No sound &c.
Heath, Lyman, "Grave of Bonaparte" (1843). Historic Sheet Music Collection. 432.
The views expressed in this paper are solely those of the author.