Lines On the Death of Hon. D.C. Broderick

Lines On the Death of Hon. D.C. Broderick

See, Freedom's eagle droops her plume,

And bends her noble crest,

In grief for him who martyred fell,

In Liberty's contest.

Not Broderick only, but the cause

Was riven by the blow,

And treachery, with blackened art,

Has slain her bravest foe.

The silver cord is loosened now,

Though mourned by friends with pain,

And glory wreath has lost a rose

It never can regain.

Kansas, weep o'er the hero's shrine,

Who nobly fought for you;

His manly soul craved pelf nor power—

No! Broderick's heart was true!

Through San Francisco's silent strets,

The mourning draperies wave,

And thousands of his weeping friends

Conveyed him to his grave.

The sacred feelings of the soul,

Words never can convey;

Grief cannot eulogize the friend

Forever passed away.

His country sadly mourns his loss,

Freedom regrets his doom,

And gentle virtue, pale-browed maid,

Sits weeping at his tomb;

But not with tears grieve valiant souls—

They to the conquest fly,

To avenge our hero's traitorous doom,

Or like a Broderick die!

Arabella C. Ross

1:14, p. 1

10.22.1859