THE LADY C. M.
To them that knew her, there is vital flame
In these the simple letters of her name.
To them that knew her not, be it but said,
So strong a spirit is not of the dead.
ON THE TOMBSTONE OF
JAMES CHRISTOPHER WILSON
(d. APRIL 11, 1884)
IN HEADLEY CHURCHYARD, SURREY
Thou our beloved and light of Earth hast crossed
The sea of darkness to the yonder shore.
There dost thou shine a light transferred, not lost,
Through love to kindle in our souls the more.
GORDON OF KHARTOUM
Of men he would have raised to light he fell:
In soul he conquered with those nerveless hands.
His country’s pride and her abasement knell
The Man of England circled by the sands.
J. C. M.
A fountain of our sweetest, quick to spring
In fellowship abounding, here subsides:
And never passage of a cloud on wing
To gladden blue forgets him; near he hides.
THE EMPEROR FREDERICK OF OUR TIME
With Alfred and St. Louis he doth win
Grander than crowned head’s mortuary dome:
His gentle heroic manhood enters in
The ever-flowering common heart for home.