VAGRANT VERSE

Southland Times, Issue 22728, 2 November 1935, Page 4

VAGRANT VERSE

FUNERAL OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. (Written for the Southland Times.') No sound of labour vexed the quiet air From morn till eve. The people all stood still, And earth won back a Sabbath. There were none Who cared to buy and sell, and make a gain, For one whole day. All felt as they had lost A father, and were fain to keep within, Silent, or speaking little. Such a day An old man sees but once in all his time.

The simplest peasant in the land that day , ■ x Knew somewhat of his country s grief. He heard The knell of England’s hero from the tower From the old church, and asked the cause and sighed. The veteran who had bled on some far field, Fought o’er the battle for the thousandth time With quaint addition; and the little child. That stopped his sport to run and ask -his sire What it all meant, picked out the simple tale, — How he who drove the French from Waterloo, And crushed the tyrant of the world, and made His country great and glorious,—he was dead. All from the simplest to the stateliest, knew , But one sad story—from the cotters bairn Up to the fair-haired lady on the throne, Who sat within and sorrowed for her friend, And every tear she shed became her well, And seemed more lovely in her people’s eyes Than all the starry wonders of her crown. But as the waters of the Northern Sea (When one strong wind blows steady from the pole) Come hurrying to the shore, and far and wide As eye can reach the creaming waves press on Impatient; or, as trees that bow their tops One way, when alpine hollows bring one way The > blast whereat they quiver in the vale, — So millions pressed to swell the general grief One way;—for once all men seemed one way drawn; Of it, through evil hap and unforeseen, Some stayed behind, their hearts, at least, where there The whole day through—could think of nothing else, Hear nothing else, see nothing! In his cell The student saw the pageant; spied from far The long-drawn pomp which reached from west to east, Slow moving in the silence—casque And banner waving sad; the marvellous state Of heralds, soldiers, nobles, foreign powers, With baton, or with pennon; princes, peers, Judges, and dignitaries of Church and State, And warriors grown grey-headed;— every form Which greatness can assume or honour name, ' Peaceful or warlike, each and all were there; Trooping in sable sorrow after him Who slept serene upon his funeral car In glorious rest! A child might understand That ’twas no national sorrow, but a grief Wide as the world. A child might understand That all mankind were sorrowing for

one! That banded nations had conspired to

pay This homage to the chief who drew his

sword At the command of Duty: kept it bright Through perilous days; and soon as Victory smiled Laid it unsullied in the lap of Fame. —ANON.