{"character_count": 1580, "word_count": 278, "ccnet_language_score": [0.9433000087738037], "ccnet_perplexity": [2098.800048828125], "fasttext_language": ["en"]}
The writer of this Poem was one of that
multitude of gallant young men, who, on the
raising of the Prussian volunteers threw up
their studies and took the field against Buo-
naparte. After distinguishing himself in Sc
vcral desperate actions i'll the beginning OF
1918, and obtaining for his bravery, com
mission in the Hussars, he died of wounds
received, we believe, in the great battle of
luterbach, the engagement by which Berlin
was saved, and the final blow given to the
French predominance in the north of Gcrma-
ny. In the intervals of the campaign, and
on his dying bed, he occupied himself by the
pursuits natural to his accomplished mind !;
and some of the most striking national poetry
of his brief day was from the pen of Korncr.


BATTLE HYMN.
Father of earth and heaven, call thy name,


Round me the smoke and shout OF battle roll;
Nine ey es are dazzled with the rushing fame;


Father sustain All untried soldiers soul;
Or life, or death, whatever be the goal


That crowns or closes round the struggling


hoar.


Thou know'st if ever from my spirit stole


One deeper prayer, twas that no cloud might


low'r


On my young fame 20 hear, God of eternal


pow'r!


God, thou art merciful the wintry storm,
The cloud that pours the thunder from It's


womb,


But show the sterner grandeur of thy form;


The lightnings glancing thro' the midnight
To Faiths raised eye, as calm, as lovely come.
As splentours of the autumnal evening star,
As roses shaken by the breeze's plume,


When like cold incense comes the dewy air,
And on the golden wave the sunset burns.