"But where, O where�s the hallowed sod
Beneath whose verd the hero�s ashes sleep?
Is this the cold, neglected, moldering clod?
Or that the grave at which I ought to weep?
Why rises not some massy pillar high,
To grace a name that fought for Freedom�s prize?
Or why, at least, some rudely-etch�d stone nigh,
To show the spot where matchless valor lies?
Yet, soldier, thy illustrious name is known,
Thy fame supported, and thy worth confess�d,
That peerless virtue which in danger shone,
Is shining still, where thou art laid in rest.
And though no monumental script is seen.
Thy worth to publish, and thy deeds proclaim,
Each son of Freedom, passing near this green,
Shall hail DE KALB, and venerate his name."
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