This page has already been transcribed. You can find new pages to transcribe here.


[Page 79]

But Look! a wisp of smoke goes curling high,
Towards the glorious sun which gave it life,
And bears aloft the spirit ne'er to die,
And triumphs still o'er season's bitter strife.

O noble life, so handsome and so brave,
That cheered less happy fellows with a smile,
Till duty's finger pointed o'er the wave,
And pangs of parting gripped his heart the while

Current Status: