Page:Scenes and Hymns of Life.pdf/199

Rh

A flood of hues!—but one rich dye O'er all supremely spread, With a purple robe of royalty Mantling the mighty dead.

Meet was that robe for him whose name Was a trumpet note in war, His pathway still the march of fame, His eye the battle star.

But faintly, tenderly was thrown From the colour'd light one ray, Where a low and pale memorial stone By the couch of glory lay.

Few were the fond words chisell'd there, Mourning for parted worth; But the very heart of love and prayer Had given their sweetness forth.