��KITCHENER OF KHARTOUM
Weep, waves of England I Nobler clay Was ne'er to nobler grave consigned ;
The wild waves weep with us to-day Who mourn a nation's master mind.
We hoped an honored age for him, And ashes laid with England's great;
And rapturous music, and the dim
Deep hush that veils our Tomb of State.
But this is better. Let him sleep Where sleep the men who made us free,
For England's heart is in the deep, And England's glory is the sea.
One only vow above his bier,
One only oath beside his bed : We swear our flag shall shield him here
Until the sea gives up its dead !
Leap, waves of England ! Boastful be,
And fling defiance in the blast, For Earth is envious of the Sea
Which shelters England's dead at last.
— Robert ./. C. Stead.
�� �
