Oh, breathe not his name, Let it sleep in the shade, Where cold and unhonored, His
relics are laid; Sad, silent and dark Be the tears that we shed, As night dew that weeps On the grave o'er his
head.
But the night dew that falls, Tho' in silence it weeps, Shall brighten with vendure The grave where
he sleeps; And the tears that we shed, Tho' in secret it rolls, Shall long keep his memory Green in our souls.
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