Eutaw Springs

At Eutaw Springs the valiant died;
Their limbs with dust are covered o'er;
Weep on, ye springs, your tearful tide;
How many heroes are no more!

If in this wreck of ruin, they
Can yet be thought to claim a tear,
O smite thy gentle breast, and say
The friends of freedom slumber here!

Thou, who shalt trace this bloody plain,
If goodness rules thy generous breast,
Sigh for the wasted rural reign;
Sigh for the shepherds sunk to rest!

Stranger, their humble groves adorn;
You too may fall, and ask a tear:
'Tis not the beauty of the morn
That proves the evening shall be clear.

They saw their injured country's woe,
The flaming town, the wasted field;
Then rushed to meet the insulting foe;
They took the spear--but left the shield.

Led by thy conquering standards, Greene,
The Britons they compelled to fly:
None distant viewed the fatal plain,
None grieved in such a cause to die--

But, like the Parthian, famed of old,
Who, flying, still their arrows threw,
These routed Britons, full as bold,
Retreated, and retreating slew.

Now rest in peace, our patriot band;
Though far from nature's limits thrown,
We trust they find a happier land,
A bright Phoebus of their own.

by Philip Freneau

Comments (6)

Ah, the sad hands of fate and lack of will, together... That feeling you describe to me is like the inverse of deja' vu... it grips you so that you never forget.
Another magnificent poem filled with lifes breif incounters that seem to mean so much.A real heartstring puller and another great piece of work from you Charles.Love Duncan
Poignant and beautiful. Reminds me a little of the song 'Do I Ever Cross Your Mind? ' Hugs Anna xxx
How many chances do we miss by being afraid to just speak? I think we can all identify with the feeling. The only things we regret in life are the chances we didn't take. Great poem, Charlie, as always.......... Linda
thank you, you made me smile, with this poem
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