|Stanza||Poetry Source by First Line|
What solemn sound the ear invades,
What wraps the land in sorrow's shade?
From heav'n the awful mandate flies,
The Father of his country dies.
Where shall our nation turn its eye,
What help remains beneath the sky?
Our friend, protector, strength and trust,
Lies low and mould'ring in the dust.
What solemn sounds the ear invade!, Stanzas 1 & 4