Page:Scenes and Hymns of Life.pdf/108

96

Which the green summer will not bring us back— Though all her songs return.—The funeral chant Breathe reverently!—They bear the mighty forth, The kingly ruler in the realms of mind— They bear him through the household paths, the groves, Where every tree had music of its own To his quick ear of knowledge taught by love— And he is silent!—Past the living stream They bear him now; the stream, whose kindly voice On alien shores his true heart burn'd to hear— And he is silent! O'er the heathery hills, Which his own soul had mantled with a light Richer than autumn's purple, now they move— And he is silent!—he, whose flexile lips Were but unseal'd, and, lo! a thousand forms, From every pastoral glen and fern-clad height, In glowing life upsprang:—Vassal and chief, Rider and steed, with shout and bugle-peal, Fast rushing through the brightly troubled air,