Reuben and Other Poems by Robert Leighton |
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5TH FEBRUARY, 1868. |
 | Reuben and Other Poems |  |
5TH FEBRUARY, 1868.
Whence falls the gloom upon our modern Tyre—
Through all her streets the cloudy brow and eye,
And from her mournful ships the weeping fire
Of red flags, half-mast high?
Through all her streets the cloudy brow and eye,
And from her mournful ships the weeping fire
Of red flags, half-mast high?
A prince of her's, the eldest and the best—
In moral strength the bravest of the brave—
Her most revered, her pride, has gone to rest
In William Rathbone's grave.
In moral strength the bravest of the brave—
Her most revered, her pride, has gone to rest
In William Rathbone's grave.
262
Humanity, exhaustless as the sea,
All honour, honesty, and judgment ripe,—
Of what an English Merchant ought to be,
He was the perfect type.
All honour, honesty, and judgment ripe,—
Of what an English Merchant ought to be,
He was the perfect type.
Fifth of a name that brightens as it lives,
He leaves it to his race without one stain,
And to his thankful town assurance gives
Of such another reign.
He leaves it to his race without one stain,
And to his thankful town assurance gives
Of such another reign.
He was the people's champion through all
Their fights of progress, from his manly youth;
Stern foe to error, ignorance, and thrall,
His sword, unyielding Truth.
Their fights of progress, from his manly youth;
Stern foe to error, ignorance, and thrall,
His sword, unyielding Truth.
The World but seldom bears a godlike son,—
They come at times, to save her failing breath;
But we have known, and mourn the loss of one
In William Rathbone's death.
They come at times, to save her failing breath;
But we have known, and mourn the loss of one
In William Rathbone's death.
Weep not for him—weep rather for the Poor,
Who held a deeper interest in his wealth,—
Great Charities that through his aid endure,
And alms he gave by stealth.
Who held a deeper interest in his wealth,—
Great Charities that through his aid endure,
And alms he gave by stealth.
Mourn not for him—his finished acts applaud:
He did not merely play, but lived his part:
And now—his immortality in God,
And in the human heart.
He did not merely play, but lived his part:
And now—his immortality in God,
And in the human heart.
| Reuben and Other Poems | |