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The Grey Company.
227
CLIX.
William Rolleston.
Close his fair volume of true word and deed
For the still hour when sorrow is alone
With the beloved; when the heart has grown
Less poignant for his parting, we shall need
His bland, sweet wisdom, sacrosanctest creed
Of truth omnipotent above all throne,
Or people, till the larger life be known
Wherefor he scattered oft the earliest seed.
Oh! Godlike charity for the oppressed,
Clear spirit looking to the border goal
With eyes not politic, but shining far
With the upspringing rectitude of soul,
Be here with us, still striving, from thy rest,
Forget not in the glory of a star!
For the still hour when sorrow is alone
With the beloved; when the heart has grown
Less poignant for his parting, we shall need
His bland, sweet wisdom, sacrosanctest creed
Of truth omnipotent above all throne,
Or people, till the larger life be known
Wherefor he scattered oft the earliest seed.
Oh! Godlike charity for the oppressed,
Clear spirit looking to the border goal
With eyes not politic, but shining far
With the upspringing rectitude of soul,
Be here with us, still striving, from thy rest,
Forget not in the glory of a star!
CLX.
The Grey Company.
O the grey, grey company
Of the pallid dawn!
O the ghostly faces,
Ashen-like and drawn!
The Lord’s lone sentinels,
Dotted down the years,
The little grey company
Before the pioneers!
Of the pallid dawn!
O the ghostly faces,
Ashen-like and drawn!
The Lord’s lone sentinels,
Dotted down the years,
The little grey company
Before the pioneers!