Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, ON AN OLD STATESMAN, by LEWIS MORRIS (1833-1907)


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

ON AN OLD STATESMAN, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: Night falls, nor yet we may discern the dawn
Last Line: The onward march of man.
Subject(s): Old Age; Statesmen


NIGHT falls, nor yet we may discern the Dawn;
The sick Age dies, and with it takes the Great,
Like perfect music trembling to its clo e,
Or some full river smoothing to its end,
Thou art gone from us, O friend,
O precious life that so long served the State;
Thou art gone from us, and fled,
To join the undying dead!
Dead! nay, to lie so long breathing reluctant breath,
With fainting forces, is not Life but Death;
But at the last to 'scape Earth's toil and strife,
That is not Death but Life!
That is not Death! and thou, thou art not dead,
Strong soul, beloved head,
Tho' hidden in some secret sphere afar,
Some faint, undreamt-of star,
In God's mysterious infinite air,
Hidden we know not how, we ask not where!
There is no Death, but only change
To some new higher birth and strange;
There is no Death, but thou, thou livest still,
Brave soul, undaunted will.
Thou silvery tongue, thou old man eloquent,
Stout patriot, hater of triumphant wrong,
Who ever didst despise the ignobly strong;
For threescore years to guide our Britain sent.
There is no Death, nor will we mourn to-day,
Only our prayers we send to speed thee on thy way.

But oh! if fair faint memories of the Earth
As is our hope, breathe thro' thy newer life,
Forget not thou, in that thy higher birth,
The dear dead Past, thy noble emulous strife,
The victories of Peace, the friendless weak
For whom thy swift tongue ever burned to speak.
Forget not thou our well-loved land, nor yet
The wider Britain of our hope forget,
Nor those whom on the sad Armenian plain --
As late on earth thou knewest with bitter pain --
The Moslem fiend dishonours, tortures, slays;
Nay, in the pauses of the eternal Psalm
Ceasing a little, while from praise
Of Him who is "most sure in all His ways,"
Wrapt in a holy calm,
Plead thou and intercede
For all weak sunken lives that here on earth do pine!
Plead thou, that War's black curse may quickly cease
In all-pervading Peace,
And speed, if any voice once mortal can,
The onward March of Man.





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