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(106) Page 43 [a] - My lodging is on the cold ground
43
MY LODGING IS ON THE COLD GROUND.
THE SONG WRITTEN
BY BURXS.
Scene. — A Field of Battle — Evening. — The wounded and dying
of the victorious army are supposed to join in the following
song.
£ areweli thou fair day, thou green earth, anil ye skies,
Now gay with the hroad setting sun !
Farewell ! loves and friendships, ye dear tender ties !
Our race of existence is run !
Thou grim king of terrors, thou life's gloomy foe,
Go frighten the coward and slave !
Go teach them to tremble, fell tyrant ! but know,
No terrors hast thou to the brave !
Thou strik'st the dull peasant, he sinks in the dark,
Nor leaves e'en the wreck of a name :
Thou strik'st the young hero, a glorious mark !
He falls in the blaze of his fame !
In the field of proud honour, our swords in our hands,
Our king and our country to save,
While victory shines on life's last ebbing sands,
O, who would not die with the brave !
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