Page:A New Zealand verse (1906).pdf/261
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Burial of Sir John McKenzie.
225
And the long years will bring
An unclouded fame;
And unmingled joy will spring
When men hear his name.
Till every voice in poean high
Has joined in the exultant cry—
“The brave man’s death is victory.”
An unclouded fame;
And unmingled joy will spring
When men hear his name.
Till every voice in poean high
Has joined in the exultant cry—
“The brave man’s death is victory.”
CLVIII.
The Burial of Sir John McKenzie.
They played him home to the House of Stones,
All the way, all the way,
To his grave in the sound of the winter sea.
The sky was dour, the sky was grey.
They played him home with the chieftain’s dirge
Till the wail was wed to the rolling surge.
They played him home with a sorrowful will
To his grave at the foot of the Holy Hill;
And the pipes went mourning all the way.
All the way, all the way,
To his grave in the sound of the winter sea.
The sky was dour, the sky was grey.
They played him home with the chieftain’s dirge
Till the wail was wed to the rolling surge.
They played him home with a sorrowful will
To his grave at the foot of the Holy Hill;
And the pipes went mourning all the way.
Strong hands that had struck for right
All the day, all the day,
Folded now in the dark of earth,—
The veiled dawn of the upper way!
Strong hands that struck with his
From days that were to the day that is
Carry him now from the house of woe
To ride the way the Chief must go;
And his peers went mourning all the way.
All the day, all the day,
Folded now in the dark of earth,—
The veiled dawn of the upper way!
Strong hands that struck with his
From days that were to the day that is
Carry him now from the house of woe
To ride the way the Chief must go;
And his peers went mourning all the way.