 | Poems by Henry Septimus Sutton |  |
EDWARD BROTHERTON.
Well may they fall—these tears; and yet, dear Friend,
Long mourning years will not suffice to feel
The fulness of our loss, nor to the end
Its bitterness reveal.
Long mourning years will not suffice to feel
The fulness of our loss, nor to the end
Its bitterness reveal.
For thine was not a mind of vulgar mould;
Thy purpose never needed mask or hood;
But always for the Right thy heart was bold,
And steadfast for the Good.
Thy purpose never needed mask or hood;
But always for the Right thy heart was bold,
And steadfast for the Good.
God gave to thee looks kind and dignified,
Gave wisdom's loving eyes and generous brow.
Not oft I've known, than thine, a heart more wide,—
A nobler man, than thou.
Gave wisdom's loving eyes and generous brow.
Not oft I've known, than thine, a heart more wide,—
A nobler man, than thou.
176
What courteous charities adorn'd thy hand!
Christ was thy Master, and thou didst rejoice
To woo men to His Wedding; didst command
With a most kindly voice.
Christ was thy Master, and thou didst rejoice
To woo men to His Wedding; didst command
With a most kindly voice.
Even wilful error could not hate the sound,
Though writhing at the truth, of thy appealing,—
Truth clad in words of earnestness profound,
And full of solemn feeling;—
Though writhing at the truth, of thy appealing,—
Truth clad in words of earnestness profound,
And full of solemn feeling;—
Because so tender in its sternest mood,
Thy manner was; so apt in loving meetness;
So gracious in its mastery; so good
And wholesome in its sweetness.
Thy manner was; so apt in loving meetness;
So gracious in its mastery; so good
And wholesome in its sweetness.
We, who had known thee long, and recognised
That only thy great meekness thee detain'd
From general honour,—thee whom we so prized
With reverence unfeign'd;—
That only thy great meekness thee detain'd
From general honour,—thee whom we so prized
With reverence unfeign'd;—
How glad were we when thou the bonds didst break
Of diffidence, thy privacy off cast,
And as a leader of the people take
Thy rightful place at last!
Of diffidence, thy privacy off cast,
And as a leader of the people take
Thy rightful place at last!
177
Now, high and blissful is thy heaven, we know;
But thy true heart, was it not always set
On service, not on pleasure? And earth's woe
Sorely requires thee yet.
But thy true heart, was it not always set
On service, not on pleasure? And earth's woe
Sorely requires thee yet.
Why might not Heaven still spare thee to our need?
For thee, with this sad earth can heaven compare?
There are no orphans' hearts that blindly bleed,
No ragged children there.
For thee, with this sad earth can heaven compare?
There are no orphans' hearts that blindly bleed,
No ragged children there.
Alas, poor starving minds that want in vain!
Now thou art gone, who will regard their need?
So feel? So strive? So toil with might and main?
With such persist ence plead?
Now thou art gone, who will regard their need?
So feel? So strive? So toil with might and main?
With such persist ence plead?
Yet 'tis no mystery why thou didst die:
Surely from earth thou hadst not been set free
But that for some still larger work on high
The Lord had need of thee;
Surely from earth thou hadst not been set free
But that for some still larger work on high
The Lord had need of thee;
'Tis for some ministry of loving skill,
Some heaven-augmenting function wide and deep,
Fit just for thee as for none else to fill,
That we are left to weep.
Some heaven-augmenting function wide and deep,
Fit just for thee as for none else to fill,
That we are left to weep.
| Poems by Henry Septimus Sutton | |