Another ray of light hath fled, another Southern brave Hath fallen in his country's cause and found a laureled grave-- Hath fallen, but his deathless name shall live when stars shall set, For, noble Cleburne, thou art one this world will ne'er forget.
'Tis true, thy warm heart beats no more, that on thy noble head Azrael placed his icy hand, and thou art with the dead; The glancing of thine eyes are dim; no more will they be bright Until they ope in Paradise, with clearer, heavenlier light.
No battle news disturbs thy rest upon the sun-bright shore, No clarion voice awakens thee on earth to wrestle more, No tramping steed, no wary foe bids thee awake, arise, For thou art in the angel world, beyond the starry skies.
Brave Cleburne, dream in thy low bed, with pulseless deadened heart; Calm, calm and sweet, O warrior rest! thou well hast borne thy part, And now a glory wreath for thee the angels singing twine, A glory wreath, not of the earth, but made by hands divine.
A long farewell--we give thee up, with all thy bright reknown, A chieftain here on earth is lost, in heaven an angel found. Above thy grave a wail is heard--a nation mourns her dead; A nobler for the South ne'er died, a braver never bled.
A last farewell--how can we speak the bitter word farewell! The anguish of our bleeding hearts vain words may never tell. Sleep on, sleep on, to God we give our chieftain in his might; And weeping, feel he lives on high, where comes no sorrow's night.
