We will not weep, we dare not! Such a story
As his large life writes on the century s years,
Should crowd our bosoms with a flush of glory,
That manhood s type, supremest that appears
To-day, he shows the ages. Nay, no tears
Because he has gone forward!
Gone forward? Whither? Where the marshal d legions,
Christ s well-worn soldiers, from their conflicts cease;
Where Faith s true Red-Cross knights repose in regions
Thick-studded with the calm, white tents of peace,
Thither, right joyful to accept release,
The General has gone forward!
THE SHADE OF THE TREES
What are the thoughts that are stirring his breast? What is the mystical vision he sees?
"Let us pass over the river and rest Under the shade of the trees" Has he grown sick of his toils and his tasks? Sighs the worn spirit for respite or ease? Is it a moment s cool halt that he asks Under the shade of the trees? Is it the gurgle of waters whose flow Ofttime has come to him, borne on the breeze, Memory listens to, lapsing so low, Under the shade of the trees?
