THE BATTLE OF SADOWA. July 3, 1866. THE sun arose in glorious might, And shed his beams of beauteous light There Prussia's gathered soldiers stand Hark! hark! and hear the cannon's roar, The battle now is raging sore And deadly is the strife ; Bloody and desperate is the fight, And now upon the crimson ground, The warrior no more shall wield The hero's course is run; Pain yet assails me, Strength ofttimes fails me, Yet my weakness is my strength and rest ; Light o'er me stealing, Softly revealing Scenes of glory up among the blest. Head no more sinking, Eyes no more shrinking, From the world's gay glitter here below; Life's cup just draining, Time's star fast waning: Christ Jesus, receive my soul! to Thee I go. Earth is retreating, Heaven is to me greeting, Hope is lighting up new scenes above; THE BATTLE OF SADOWA. July 3, 1866. THE sun arose in glorious might, There Prussia's gathered soldiers stand Hark! hark! and hear the cannon's roar, The battle now is raging sore And deadly is the strife; Bloody and desperate is the fight, The Austrian arms are put to flight, And many a one yields life. And now upon the crimson ground, nd wounded lie ; SADDENED MEMORIES. WHO that a watcher doth remain Or who that weeps beside a bier From the world's flatteries, false and leer? And yet anon and he must start At the light toys in which his heart O hearts of ours so weak and poor, While every sadder, wiser thought, O Thou who dost our weakness know, Grant Thou that we may long retain ARCHBISHOP TRENCH. |