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 | The Poetical Works of Aubrey De Vere |  |
314
II. ON THE DEATH OF A GOOD KING.
Honour that dies not, grief that lives for aye,And the benedictions of the suffering poor,
Come to thy grave, and there, as at the door
Of Heaven, their brows in mute expectance lay;
A mighty nation stands uncrowned this day:
This day a widowed people's heart is sore;
A sire this day each household doth deplore;
Each head hath lost its helm, each hand its stay.
Great king! a nation smiled upon thy birth;
A nation's prayers, each night, kept watch around thee:
Now thou obey'st the summons of the earth
Behold! a nation's duteous tears have crowned thee:
And millions at thy tomb to thee have given
A portion of their heart to waft with thee to heaven!
| The Poetical Works of Aubrey De Vere | |