Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE BURIAL OF WILLIAM THE CONQUEROR, by FELICIA DOROTHEA HEMANS


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE BURIAL OF WILLIAM THE CONQUEROR, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: Lowly upon his bier
Last Line: That were but heard in heaven?
Alternate Author Name(s): Browne, Felicia Dorothea
Subject(s): Funerals; William I, King Of England (1028-1087); Burials; William The Conqueror


LOWLY upon his bier
The royal conqueror lay,
Baron and chief stood near
Silent in war-array.

Down the long minster's aisle,
Crowds mutely gazing streamed,
Altar and tomb, the while,
Through mists of incense gleamed:

And by the torch's blaze
The stately priest had said
High words of power and praise
To the glory of the dead.

They lowered him, with the sound
Of requiems to repose,
When from the throngs around
A solemn voice arose:

"Forbear, forbear!" it cried,
In the holiest name forbear!
He hath conquered regions wide,
But he shall not slumber there.

"By the violated hearth
Which made way for yon proud shrine,
By the harvests which this earth
Hath borne to me and mine;

"By the home even here o'erthrown,
On my children's native spot, --
Hence! with his dark renown
Cumber our birthplace not!

"Will my sire's unransomed field
O'er which your censers wave,
To the buried spoiler yield
Soft slumber in the grave?

"The tree before him fell
Which we cherished many a year,
But its deep root yet shall swell
And heave against his bier.

"The land that I have tilled,
Hath yet its brooding breast
With my home's white ashes filled --
And it shall not give him rest.

"Here each proud column's bed
Hath been wet by weeping eyes, --
Hence! and bestow your dead
Where no wrong against him cries!"

Shame glowed on each dark face
Of those proud and steel-girt men,
And they bought with gold a place
For their leader's dust e'en then.

A little earth for him
Whose banner flew so far!
And a peasant's tale could dim
The name, a nation's star!

One deep voice thus arose
From a heart which wrongs had riven --
Oh! who shall number those
That were but heard in Heaven?





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