III.

For those who fell be yours the sacred trust To see forgetfulness, shall not invade The spots made holy by their noble dust; Green keep them in your hearts, Mahone's Brigade.

Oh, keep them green with patriotic tears! Forget not, now war's fever is allayed, Those valiant men, who, in the vanished years, Kept step with you in ranks, Mahone's Brigade.

Each circling year, in the sweet month of May, Your countrywomen—matron and fair maid— Still pay their tribute to the Soldier's clay, And strew his grave with flow'rs, Mahone's Brigade.

Join in the task, with retrospective eye; Men's mem'ries should not perish 'neath the spade; Pay homage to the dead, whose dying cry Was for the Commonwealth, Mahone's Brigade.

Raise up, O State! a shaft to pierce the sky, To him, the Private, who was but afraid To fail in his full duty—not to die; And on its base engrave, "Mahone's Brigade."