Page:Le Tombeau de Théophile Gautier, 1873.djvu/145

Along the streets and through the portico!
     I too, who loved the dead, as from the ground
     The glowworm loves the star, will stand, brow-bound
With winter-roses, in the sunset-glow,
And make thin music, fluting soft and low
          Above his funeral mound!

I too, who loved him, from beyond the sea
     Add my weak note to that sublime acclaim,
     That, soaring with the silver of his name,
Shall shake the heavens with splendid harmony,
Till all who listen bend in awe the knee,
     Seeing a giant’s spirit, like a flame,
     Returning to that heaven from whence it came,
And many weep for very shame, to see
The majesty they knew not, till ’twas free
          From earthly praise or blame!

Hail, O our master! From the hastening hours
     This one we set above its grey-veiled peers,
     Armed with thy name against the night that nears!
We crown it with the glory of the flowers,
We wind it with ail magic that is ours
     Of song and hope and jewel-coloured tears;
     We charm it with our love from taint of fears;
We set it high against the sky that lowers,
To burn, a love-sign, from the topmost towers,
          Through glad and sorry years.

JOHN PAYNE.