Joanna Baillie - Sonnet 6 lyrics

THE marks of d**h were on him, and he bore In every feature that sharp, clear, cold look, Which is not of this world; his weak frame shook, Yet not with terror shook; for oft before He had sought d**h amid the battle's roar; Nor shrank he now, when in his chamber lone, d**h, visible d**h, for three long moons had shewn His dart uprais'd, but struck not; still he wore His brow, though sad, undaunted; for he knew This was his last great fight, whose promise high Was endless glory to the faithful few, Whose courage can endure to victory.-- And so he conquer'd, and a soldier true And gallant, as he liv'd, did G----n die.