To fight aloud, is very brave
But gallanter, I know
Who charge within the bosom
The Cavalry of Woe
Who win, and nations do not see
Who fall—and none observe
Whose dying eyes, no Country
Regards with patriot love
We trust, in plumed procession
For such, the Angels go
Rank after Rank, with even feet
And Uniforms of Snow
But gallanter, I know
Who charge within the bosom
The Cavalry of Woe
Who win, and nations do not see
Who fall—and none observe
Whose dying eyes, no Country
Regards with patriot love
We trust, in plumed procession
For such, the Angels go
Rank after Rank, with even feet
And Uniforms of Snow
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