 | Poems by John Howard Bryant |  |
193
ON THE DEATH OF ICHABOD CODDING.
When death, with a relentless hand,
Smites the strong pillars of the land,
To what safe refuge can we flee,
Lord of Nations, but to Thee?
Smites the strong pillars of the land,
To what safe refuge can we flee,
Lord of Nations, but to Thee?
As falls the stately forest oak,
So fall earth's heroes by the stroke;
The wise, the good in sad array
And silent grandeur, pass away.
So fall earth's heroes by the stroke;
The wise, the good in sad array
And silent grandeur, pass away.
This day we mourn with many tears—
Cut down amid his prime of years,—
A life long toiler in Thy cause,
For freedom, truth and righteous laws.
Cut down amid his prime of years,—
A life long toiler in Thy cause,
For freedom, truth and righteous laws.
Kind, gentle, child-like in thy sight,
Strong, brave, unflinching for the right;
'Mid scorn and cowardice, he stood
And gave his life to deeds of good.
Strong, brave, unflinching for the right;
'Mid scorn and cowardice, he stood
And gave his life to deeds of good.
With faltering faith, O God! we ask,
Who shall resume the unfinished task;
Who stand Thy Champion, in the stead
Of the heroic, mighty dead?
Who shall resume the unfinished task;
Who stand Thy Champion, in the stead
Of the heroic, mighty dead?
194
Yet, know we, far beyond our ken,
Live the great deeds of noble men,
And glowing truths from prophet seers,
Light the long pathway of the years.
Live the great deeds of noble men,
And glowing truths from prophet seers,
Light the long pathway of the years.
| Poems by John Howard Bryant | |