Classic Poem

Something so human-hearted
In a tint that ever lies
Where a splendor has just departed
And a glory is yet to rise!

Gray in the solemn gloaming,
Gray in the dawning skies;
In the old man's crown of honor,
In the little maiden's eyes.

Gray mists o'er the meadows brooding,
Whence the world must draw its best;
Gray gleams in the churchyard shadows,
Where all the world would “Rest.”

Gray gloom in the grand cathedral,
Where the “Glorias” are poured,
And, with angel and archangel,
We wait the coming Lord.

Silvery gray for the bridal,
Leaden gray for the pall;
For urn, for wreath, for life and death,
Ever the Gray for all.

Gray in the very sadness
Of ashes and sackcloth; yea,
While our raiment of beauty and gladness
Tarries, our tears shall stay;
And our souls shall smile through their sadness,
And our hearts shall wear the Gray.