Classic Poem

Whatever crowns the just may wear,
Whatever worlds of light there be,
I know his soul, unshackled, free,
Has come to share.

He reared an honourable name,
He lived almost the allotted span,
Since time first dawned no vigorous man
Has earned less blame —

So ran the record when he died;
But who could fitly mete his worth,
His freedom from the sins of earth,
Deceit and pride;

His inward sense of righteousness,
The heed he gave to duty's call,
His faith that sorrows, great and small,
Are sent to bless.

Men seek the paths self-love has planned,
He scorned to walk in tortuous ways,
The light that lured him all his days
Was God's command.

His heart with pity was imbued,
And patience and self-sacrifice, —
He gave men these, and asked no price,
Even gratitude.

O saint, upon thy radiant brow
Such light appears we veil our eyes,
Heaven make us half as strong and wise,
And great, as thou!

Whatever crowns the just may wear,
Whatever worlds of light there be,
Thy spirit now, unshackled, free,
Must fully share.