Classic Poem

Borne o'er death's rolling wave on angel pinions,
Our brother rests
Where blessed Peace rules all the fair dominions,
And war's rude crests,
And martial notes, and hosts arrayed for battle,
Are known no more;
And never swords shall clash, nor death-balls rattle,
Upon that shore.

A hero, in the strife for Freedom dying.
Immortal bays
Shall deck the brow in Death's embrace now lying;
And tuneful lays
From hearts sincere his virtues be declaring
Who gave his all, —
Home, health and life, — obedient on hearing
His country's call.

Yet sad our hearts who mourn the friend so cherished,
The noble soul,
Thank God! who lives, while but our hopes have perished,
And at the goal
Of our short race will bid us welcome gladly;
And each true heart
Forget the pangs which here it feels so sadly,
While friends depart.

O brother! 'neath the shadow we shall wander,
And think of thee:
Upon thy many virtues sweetly ponder,
And pray to be
Where thou art resting on the shores immortal,
With those so dear
Who earlier entered heaven's gleaming portal,
And left thee here.

Thou faithful servant of the High and Holy!
Heaven shall be
Still nearer to the souls, that, bending lowly,
Now mourn for thee,
And, with the Everlasting Arm beneath them,
Float with the tide
Which bears them on where thou ere long shall greet them,
The other side.

Hero and saint! enrolled upon the pages
Of history,
Telling of deeds sublime to future ages,
Thy name shall be.
And, better still, the Lamb's resplendent volume
Thy name shall bear,
Heading, perchance, a long and brilliant column
Of heroes there.

Farewell for time! no more we here shall greet thee;
But far on high,
Amid the angels, we shall surely meet thee,
No more to die.
And from our lips the chalice, now so bitter,
Our God will take,
And bid us drink from heaven's fountain sweeter
When we awake.