Washington, DC, 1998.
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On the Death of Five young Men who was Murthered,
March
5th 1770. By the 29th Regiment.
Mourn
O my Friends, let solemn numbers flow,
From thy sad thoughts, sit for the scenes of Woe;
For in
King-street
their breathless Bodies lay;
For Dead, ah! Dead for ever Dead are they.
By cruel Soldiers, five Men were slain,
Their everlasting happiness to gain;
And when fierce Troops urg'd thick on ev'ry Side,
They spurn'd their Fate, and spread Destruction wide.
Till in their Bodies log'd the fatal Lead,
Beat low the Force of Life, and left them dead;
They have made their Dress with scarlet Flame:
Like the deep red which speaks a modest Shame.
My streaming Eyes gush plenteous o'er their hearse,
While thus I strove, the fading honours of my Verse;
For who unmov'd can see their lovely Limbs,
Stretch'd on the Ground, and dy'd with purple Streams.
But now, O! dreadful thoughts, eternal Night,
Has clos'd their Eyes, and veil'd them out of sight;
Shall then the Murd'rers eternal live:
And all the waste of envious time survive.
While their sad Fate employs a silent woe,
And Death shall seize their Fame and Body too:
Now live dear Youth's, green with immortal Baize,
And let successive Years augment your PRAISE.
FINIS.
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