Come to the bridal chamber, Death! Come to the mothers, when she feels For the first time her first-borns breath! Come when the blessed seals That close the pestilence are broke, And crowded cities wail its stroke! Come in consumptions ghastly form, The earthquake shock, the ocean storm! Come when the heart beats high and warm, With banquet song, and dance, and wine! And thou art terrible!the tear, The groan, the knell, the pall, the bier, And all we know or dream or fear Of agony are thine.
But to the hero, when his sword Has won the battle for the free, Thy voice sounds like a prophets word; And in its hollow tones are heard The thanks of millions yet to be.