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HISTORY OF JOHN SMITH.

105

His saddle now became his home,

His horse and he seemed one;
And he was ne'er known to dismount,

Unless he first got on.

How brave and bold a man he was,

From one small fact is clear;
Whole regiments fled before him when,-

He followed in their rear.

He was a steady soldier then,

And sober too of course,

And ne'er into a tap-room wenty

Mounted upon his horse.

In fact his conduct was so good,

His Captains all confess He never got into a scrape,

Though always in a mess.

Though as to what fights he'd been in

Men differed, -none denied That the last battle he e'er fought

Was that in which he died.

106

HISTORY OF JOHN SMITH.

The soldiers there who saw him fall,

Esclaim'd, as with one breath,
“ Unless his wound's a mortal one,

It will not cause his death."

Unlike most epitaphs, John Smith's

Nought but the truth did tell;
But this none ever stopp'd to read,

Who had not learn'd to spell.

Stop, passenger and weep;-one tear

To him you can't refuse,
Who stood-high in his regiment,

And five feet in his shoes."

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