Page:Collected poems of Rupert Brooke.djvu/159

 THE FUNERAL OF YOUTH: THRENODY

The day that Youth had died,

There came to his grave-side,

In decent mourning, from the country's ends,

Those scatter'd friends

Who had lived the boon companions of his prime,

And laughed with him and sung with him and wasted,

In feast and wine and many-crown'd carouse,

The days and nights and dawnings of the time

When Youth kept open house,

Nor left untasted

Aught of his high emprise and ventures dear,

No quest of his unshar'd—

All these, with loitering feet and sad head bar'd,

Followed their old friend's bier.

Folly went first,

With muffled bells and coxcomb still revers'd;

And after trod the bearers, hat in hand—

Lauglder, most hoarse, and Captain Pride with tanned

And martial face all grim, and fussy Joy,

Who had to catch a train, and Lust, poor, snivelling boy;

These bore the dear departed.

Behind them, broken-hearted,

Came Grief, so noisy a widow, that all said,

"Had he but wed

Her elder sister Sorrow, in her stead!"

And by her, trying to soothe her all the time,

The fatherless children, Colour, Tune, and Rhyme

(The sweet lad Rhyme), ran all-uncomprehending.

Then, at the way's sad ending,