• It seemed to be but chance, yet who shall say
    That ’t was not part of Nature ’s own sweet way,

    That on the field where once the cannon’s breath
    Laid many a hero cold and stark in death,

    Some little children, in the after-years,
    Had come to play among the grassy spears,

    And, all unheeding, when their romp was done,
    Had left a wreath...