IN MEMORIAM.
(ALFRED TENNYSON, obit 1892.)
Farewell, great bard, a glorious memory now—
For all who knew thy spell,
The circling Moon upon thy dark'ning brow
Laid fit farewell.
Rightly thou would'st that no unseemly tears
Should mar thy closing day—
The laurelled victor 'mid acclaiming cheers
Should pass away.
More fit the note of praise, the reverent boast,
To sound his passing knell,
Who sang of all we love and cherish most,
And sang so well:
Who filled a nation's heart with quickening fire
Of white-robed Virtue's lore,
Who wrought sweet music from his Saxon lyre,
Unheard before:
Who drew our footsteps to the shining heights
Above earth's misty zone,
Where shafts break ever from the crystal lights
About the Throne:
