THE DEAD CENTURY
105
Richer the world than when the earth
Sang for joy to hail his birth,
Even though you say
He was no saint whom we sing to-day.
Sang for joy to hail his birth,
Even though you say
He was no saint whom we sing to-day.
XXII.
Lo! we wait
Knocking here at the sepulchre's gate!
Souls of the Ages passed away,
A mightier joins your ranks to-day;
Open your doors, ye royal dead,
And welcome give to this crownèd head!
For calmly under this sable pall
Sleepeth the kingliest of ye all,
While we wait
At the sepulchre's awful gate!
Knocking here at the sepulchre's gate!
Souls of the Ages passed away,
A mightier joins your ranks to-day;
Open your doors, ye royal dead,
And welcome give to this crownèd head!
For calmly under this sable pall
Sleepeth the kingliest of ye all,
While we wait
At the sepulchre's awful gate!
XXIII.
Give him room
Proudly, Centuries! in your tomb.
Now that his weary work is done,
Honor and rest he well hath won.
Let him who is first among you pay
Homage to him who comes this day,
Bidding him pass to his destined place,
Noblest of all his noble race!
Make ye room
For the kingly dead in the silent tomb!
Proudly, Centuries! in your tomb.
Now that his weary work is done,
Honor and rest he well hath won.
Let him who is first among you pay
Homage to him who comes this day,
Bidding him pass to his destined place,
Noblest of all his noble race!
Make ye room
For the kingly dead in the silent tomb!
