And now, that task fulfilled, his voice once more
Breaks forth into a fuller, richer song,
"Not changed to hoarse or mute," sublime and strong,
The noblest heard among the sons of men.
A strain full worthy of his subject high—
Sin, Death, and Hell, and our eternal woe;
The gloomy majesty of Heaven's great foe,
Hurling defiance to the vaulted sky;
The work of Christ, Immortal Son of God,
The warring hosts of fiends to darkness hurl'd,
Creation and the birth of this round world,
And man brought low beneath th' Almighty rod.
His throne is set where the immortals are,
Where Dante, crowned with laurel, smiles serene,
And Virgil wears his garland ever green,
And Homer shines undimmed, a fadeless star.
TO THE MEMORY OF DR. BIGGS
AN UNDERGRADUATE POEM
An old Portora boy's tribute to the late Dr. Biggs
(accidentally drowned in Lough Erne, July 1904)
Calm was the evening; and the lake as calm
Showed not a ripple on its placid breast;
Peaceful was Nature, when the one we loved
Passed quietly to his rest.
Not racked by pain, nor marred by fell disease,
He bowed beneath the Almighty's chastening rod—-
With heart at ease, and praise upon his lips,
He went to meet his God.