Poems (Ford)/R. D. Williams
R. D. WILLIAMS.
IN MEMORIAM.
IN MEMORIAM.
Another glorious star has fled from Erin's clouded sky;
Another minstrel voice has joined the angel choirs on high;
Oh, heavy are our hearts to-day, and sadly do we weep
Our country's noble patriot-bard, who sleeps his long, last sleep.
Another minstrel voice has joined the angel choirs on high;
Oh, heavy are our hearts to-day, and sadly do we weep
Our country's noble patriot-bard, who sleeps his long, last sleep.
We weep for thee, O gifted one, too early called away;
The night of death too soon closed o'er thy bright meridian day;
Thy unstrung lyre is silent now; thy proud, high heart is stilled;
Thy cherished dream—a land redeemed—is yet to be fulfilled.
The night of death too soon closed o'er thy bright meridian day;
Thy unstrung lyre is silent now; thy proud, high heart is stilled;
Thy cherished dream—a land redeemed—is yet to be fulfilled.
'T was thine to wake old Erin's harp, to sweep its breathing strings
With touch as soft as the light breath of passing angel wings,
To bid it breathe of joy or love, or sigh low songs of woe,
Or sing in strains of triumph high the deeds of long ago.
With touch as soft as the light breath of passing angel wings,
To bid it breathe of joy or love, or sigh low songs of woe,
Or sing in strains of triumph high the deeds of long ago.
Thy magic numbers thrill our souls, their notes are Erin's own—
The murmurs of her summer streams, her torrents' thunder tomes;
And if at last thy clay-cold brow no laurel wreath may shade,
Thou'st left a glorious wreath of song that time can never fade.
The murmurs of her summer streams, her torrents' thunder tomes;
And if at last thy clay-cold brow no laurel wreath may shade,
Thou'st left a glorious wreath of song that time can never fade.
Alas! alas! our motherland, too oft thou 'rt doomed to mourn
The bright links of thy household band, gone never to return;
And now thy tears will flow afresh: another son is gone,
Whose arm was foremost in thy fight, whose heart was all thy own.
The bright links of thy household band, gone never to return;
And now thy tears will flow afresh: another son is gone,
Whose arm was foremost in thy fight, whose heart was all thy own.
The best and bravest of our land too early all depart,
For patriot fire lights ruined hopes that soon consume the heart;
But round them still our heart-strings twine, though they have passed away,
As round our country's ruined shrines the ivy clings to-day.
For patriot fire lights ruined hopes that soon consume the heart;
But round them still our heart-strings twine, though they have passed away,
As round our country's ruined shrines the ivy clings to-day.
Brave hero-heart, true child of song, calm be thy dreamless rest,
And sweet as if thy last cold couch were on our country's breast;
This last sad parting brings to her but bitterness and pain;
For thee 'tis joy, for thou art gone where souls ne'er wear a chain,
And sweet as if thy last cold couch were on our country's breast;
This last sad parting brings to her but bitterness and pain;
For thee 'tis joy, for thou art gone where souls ne'er wear a chain,