WELLINGTON'S FUNERAL. 18th November, 1852. 'VICTORY!' So once more the cry must be. Duteous mourning we fulfil In God's name; but by God's will, 'Victory!' Funeral, In the music round this pall, Solemn grief yields earth to earth; But what tones of solemn mirth In the pageant of new birth Rise and fall? For indeed, If our eyes were opened, Who shall say what escort floats Here, which breath nor gleam denotes, Fiery horses, chariots Fire-footed? Trumpeter, Even thy call he may not hear; Multitude, Hold your breath in reverent mood: For while earth's whole kindred stand This soul's labor shall be scann'd Lift And found good. Cherubim, ye not even now your hymn? Lo! once lent for human lack, Thrills not now the starry track, Gabriel, Since the gift of thine 'All hail !' Than the peace which this man wrought Be no word Raised of bloodshed Christ-abhorr'd Say: 'Twas thus in His decrees For His harvest's high increase Sent a sword.' Veterans, He by whom the neck of France Countenance. Waterloo ! As the last grave must renew, Ere fresh death, the banshee-strain, So methinks upon thy plain Falls some presage in the rain, And O thou, Watching with an exile's brow In some new heart's English blood Emperor, Is this all thy work was for? In another's shame, to shame Wellington, Thy great work is but begun. Whose long tale of conquering strife Shows no triumph like his life Lost and won. * Date of the Coup d'État: 2nd December, 1851. WORLD'S WORTH, 'Tis of the Father Hilary. He strove, but could not pray; so took The steep-coiled stair, where his feet shook Ever up A sad blind echo. He toiled. "Twas a sick sway of air That autumn noon within the stair, As dizzy as a turning cup. His brain benumbed him, void and thin; He shut his eyes and felt it spin; The obscure deafness hemmed him in. He said: 'O world, what world for me?' He leaned unto the balcony Where the chime keeps the night and day; It hurt his brain, he could not pray. He had his face upon the stone : Deep 'twixt the narrow shafts, his eye Passed all the roofs to the stark sky, Swept with no wing, with wind alone. |