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TO JOHN BRIGHT by LEWIS MORRIS (1833-1907)

First Line: FRIEND OF THE FRIENDLESS ELSE, AND ART THOU DEAD?
Last Line: THIS SIMPLE WREATH TO DECK THY HONOURED CLAY!
Subject(s): BRIGHT, JOHN (1811-1889); DEATH; DEAD, THE;

FRIEND of the friendless else, and art thou dead?
Great Master of our vigorous Saxon speech,
Unwearied pleader for the people's bread,
Hater of war, strong to convince and teach,
With passionate faith and indignation strong,
Mighty to slay the hydra-heads of wrong.

Thy voice was aye for Freedom, and thy heart
Warlike for Peace, since o'er the open grave
Of thy young love, thou didst accept thy part
To strike the shameful fetters from the slave,
To lift the toiler from his hopeless lot,
To plant the civic sense where it was not.

Thy soul was reared on fitting food; thy tongue,
Touched with our older England's purest fire;
The noblest strains our Island Muse has sung,
Shakspeare and Milton did thy speech inspire;
The poets taught thy rhythmic periods strong;
And thy impetuous flights were winged with song.

Thou couldst not brook the faithless souls that dread
To follow Right and leave the rest to God;
No selfish fear of careless riches bred
Might turn thee from the path by Duty trod.
England thou lovedst, and beyond set of sun
A greater England still, and both made one!

Thy friend and comrade went his way alone;
Long years ago God called him, and he went.
To him thy speech has reared, than sculptured stone,
A statelier and more lasting monument.
Long time were ye reviled, scorned, hated; now
A people's homage crowns each reverend brow.

Champion of Freedom, by thy hearse shall I
Keep silence -- I who owe thee much indeed?
A Prince among the People comes to die,
And shall no grateful son of verse take heed?
Nay, on thy grave, ere falls the earth, I lay
This simple wreath to deck thy honoured clay!



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