 | The Collected Poems of T. W. H. Crosland |  |
47
Cor Cordium
He is gone hence. Weep no weak tears for him:
You gave us freely what you valued most;
It is not loss, for gifts are never lost
Unto the giver. Lo, the star-kept, dim
Limits where battle fades away, and grim
Death halts and hath no power! On that coast
His feet are set among the shining host
Who range with cherubim and seraphim.
You gave us freely what you valued most;
It is not loss, for gifts are never lost
Unto the giver. Lo, the star-kept, dim
Limits where battle fades away, and grim
Death halts and hath no power! On that coast
His feet are set among the shining host
Who range with cherubim and seraphim.
A thousand suns are unregarded dust,
A million dawns break and are counted not,
And Beauty riseth up, and she departs
Eternally—eternally forgot;
But your fair stripling, dead beside his trust,
Is safely folded in the Heart of Hearts.
A million dawns break and are counted not,
And Beauty riseth up, and she departs
Eternally—eternally forgot;
But your fair stripling, dead beside his trust,
Is safely folded in the Heart of Hearts.
| The Collected Poems of T. W. H. Crosland | |