Wednesday, 13 November 1861.
Let their bones rest in peace on the field of their glory;
Leave them quiet repose, now the victory's won:
Let the wilderness mounds for aye tell the story,
And the labourer sleep where his labours were done.
No need now of vain pompous pageant to brighten
The halo encircling the names of the dead;
No need now of color the verdue to heighten
Of the laurels and willows that hang o'er their bed.
More fitting by far that the graves in the North,
Shoudl be left in memorial of the men and the deed,
To tell to all time how high valor and worth
Gave devotion and life when their country had need.
Never more nobly had a duty been done,
Never more bravely a sacrifice made;
Never more gloriously honor was won,
And never more basely devotion repaid.
Let a nation's memorial, piled to the sky,
Be the one mournful tribute their country shall raise,-
That when they are forget who left them to die,
Burke and Wills will be names for virtue to praise.
Alone in he desert then let them repose,
Tho' far from their kin o'er their bays droops the willow;
Their glory for ever shall bloom as the rose,
And the angel of peace shall keep watch o'er their pillow.
In peace let them lie where Howitt has lais them,
The old British banner's fit shroud for the brave;
No more glorious sepulture e'er can be made them;
Then disturb not the tear-moistened dust of their grave.