FUNERAL DAY OF SIR WALTER SCOTT.
99
Making victorious melody ascend
High above sorrow's dirge, befits the tomb
Where he that sway'd the nations thus is laid—
The crown'd of men?
A lowly, lowly song.
Lowly and solemn be
Thy children's cry to thee,
Father divine!
A hymn of suppliant breath,
Owning that life and death
Alike are thine!
A spirit on its way,
Sceptred the earth to sway,
From thee was sent:
Now call'st thou back thine own—
Hence is that radiance flown—
To earth but lent.
