TO THE MEMORY OF
MY FRIEND
ARTHUR RANSOM
HAIL AND FAREWELL
To A.R.
We range the ringing slopes of life; but you
Scale the last summit, high in lonelier air,
Whose dizzy pinnacle each soul must dare
For valedictions born and ventures new.
From dust to spirit climb, O brave and true!
Strong in the wisdom that is more than prayer;
High o'er the mists of pain and of despair,
Mount to the vision, and the far adieu.
Merged in the vastness, with a calm surmise
Mount, lonely climber, brightened from afar;
Whose soul is secret as the evening-star;
Whose steps are toward the ultimate surprise:
No dubious morrow dims those daring eyes—
Divinely lit whence truth's horizons are.