33 



THE GRAVE IN THE VALE. 



Lay him down gently, men, leave him to slumber, 

 There where the shadows fall silent and still, 



'Twas but last week he was one of our number, 

 Cheering his hounds on the side of the hill. 



Lay him down gently, men, mourners are weeping. 

 Tears as the dewdrops, how lightly they fall ; 



Mark the grey twilight now silently creeping, 

 Hush ! it is Nature's all beautiful pall. 



Leave her to watch him, the day is declining, 

 The voice of the night wind will soothe him to rest ; 



Leave him to Nature, the mists are entwining 



The hill where the sun has gone down in the west. 



Still I recall it, that fearful disaster, 



The fence where the wire was obscured from the eye ; 

 Gamely they tried it, the mare and the Master, 



Gamely they fell, with the hounds in full cry. 



Such a sad spectacle, oh ! so unsightly, 

 Mangled and bleeding he lay on the plain. 



" Steady ! " they gave the word, " lift him there lightly, 

 Spread the coat over him, let him remain." 



