A dirge for the brave old pioneer
The patriarch of his tribe
He sleeps, no pompous pile marks where,
No line his deeds describe.
They raised no stone above him here
Nor carved his deathless name.
An empire is his sepulchre,
His epitaph is fame.
Written for an all American hero
who died this day 1820
The patriarch of his tribe
He sleeps, no pompous pile marks where,
No line his deeds describe.
They raised no stone above him here
Nor carved his deathless name.
An empire is his sepulchre,
His epitaph is fame.
Written for an all American hero
who died this day 1820