We paid long since the tribute of our tears,
When, at his post, the veteran statesman died;
But now that grief has been assuaged by years,
We mourn not, but rejoice, with sober pride,
That one of earth’s immortals, wise and strong,
Dwelt in our midst so long,
Teaching large thoughts and love of liberty,
And, Atlas-like, upon his shoulders bore
Our world of care, until, life’s turmoil o’er,
He passed from us away.
He found the seven sisters of the North,
The Sea-Queen’s daughters, in primeval woods,
By lonely streams, lamenting, and them forth
He led from desert lands and solitudes.
The Pleiades of nations, they have shone
Upon Britannia’s throne;
With every passing year, their golden light
Waxing in lustre, until every land
In wonder looks upon the glorious band
That breaks the Northern night.
He walked through life triumphant. Fortune’s son,
What were to others barriers, were to him
But gates, through which his high success was won.
He held strange spirit commune with the dim
Shapes of the future. His far-reaching mind
Some harmony did find
In elements discordant; and man’s strength
And weakness served with him the noble end
To build a nation and all factions blend
In brotherhood, at length.
And shall we, in whose midst so long he dwelt,
Who had commune so long with his great mind,
Forsake his teachings, and, like Israel, melt
Our gold to rear false gods! Shall we grow blind
To those large thoughts, that tolerance which long
Made this Dominion strong?
Nay, never so! He left an heritage
Worthy himself and us; be ours the pride
To bind this new Dominion, rich and wide
Closer from age to age.
ENTERING PORT.
(In Memoriam The Rt. Hon. Sir John S. D. Thompson.)
Hark to the solemn gun and tolling bell!
What ship is this, that, dark as night or death,
Is entering port upon the sullen swell,
While an expectant nation holds its breath?
From many a threatening port her cannon gape,
Above her deck the flag of Britain flies;
Like some sad dream she comes, her sombre shape
Crushing the waves that in her pathway rise.
One of the Sea Queen’s ocean walls is she,
Grim guardian of her honor, yet that prow
Ne’er upon nobler errand cleft the sea,
Nor guarded Britain’s honor more than now.