IV.

Then came the end, my Countrymen,

The last thunderbolts were hurled!

Worn out by his own victories

His battle flags were furled

And a history was finished

That has changed the modern world.

As some saint in the arena

Of a bloody Roman game,

As the prize of his endeavor,

Put on an immortal frame,

Through long agonies our Soldier

Won the crown of martial fame.

But there came a greater glory

To that man supremely great

(When his just sword he laid aside

In peace to serve his State)

For in his classic solitude

He rose up and mastered Fate.

He triumphed and he did not die!--

No funeral bells are tolled--

But on that day in Lexington

Fame came herself to hold

His stirrup while he mounted

To ride down the streets of gold.

He is not dead! There is no death!

He only went before

His journey on when CHRIST THE LORD

Wide open held the door,

And a calm, celestial peace is his:

Thank God! forevermore.

A Wreath of Virginia Bay Leaves Poems of James Barron Hope · 第 104 / 105 题