This page has been validated.
From page 105
From Poems of Felicia Hemans, 1872, page 372
LAST RITES.
By the mighty minster's bell,
Tolling with a sudden swell;
By the colours half-mast high,
O'er the sea hung mournfully;
Know, a prince hath died!
By the drum's dull muffled sound,
By the arms that sweep the ground,
By the volleying muskets' tone,
Speak ye of a soldier gone
In his manhood's pride.
By the chanted psalm that fills
Reverently the ancient hills,1[1]
- ↑ 1 A custom still retained at rural funerals in some parts of England and Wales.
