Page:Livingstone in Africa.djvu/139

Before our stainless warrior of the cross;
Uncursed of any humblest human soul;
Blest and for ever to be blest by man;
Foremost of all explorers; Liberator
Of the dark continent, and all her sons!

Africa, and America, appear
His mighty mourners; for a staunchest friend,
Stanley is here; and here the slave set free,²⁴
Who brought his noble master to the coast;
The Negro youth, who breathed our English words
Of faithful hope, words we are breathing now,
Over that heart entomb'd in Africa.
For though she hath restored some dust to us,
In life, in death, She claims to hold his heart!
. . . Hath he not died in her own awful arms?
His sons and daughters in deep sable robed
Bear large white wreaths of blossom for his grave:
Yea, dark Death lies all buried and conceal'd
Under sweet emblems of immortal life!
Alas! if he had come to us alive,
He might have gather'd violets to-day;