POETRY.
As the daylight deepens, the sun goes down ! Though faint and bleeding, too few to win, We may help others to wear the crown.
Ab, fatal shot ! Did ye mark that fall ?
'Twas he, 0 brothers, strong heart, true brain ; And a splendid fighter ; his breezy call Rang forth, and the world grew young again; With the boys at battle, the boys at play, In the old School-close, 'neath the old School-bell, And the great old Master, who led the fray, With the earnest brow, and the sacred spell : All fighters, all—and there's one more gone, With his gallant bearing, his lofty crest; And we must not stay, for the fight goes on ; This world is for fighting, the next for rest.
So, just one look as we pass him by !
And just one tear as we turn the sod !
And a star the less in a darkened sky !
And a prayer as we leave his soul with God!
Then close up closer ! yet nearer stand, As in those schooldays that he loved so well,. And fill up the gap, a united band, And step in the place where a comrade fell!
And onward still with your faces Bet To the sunbright thought of a younger day !. For a soul is alive in the old world yet, And a spirit astir in its bonds of clay.
And all together ! Ye shall not fail— To doubt were coward, to halt were crime—
With God and with man to uplift the veil, And win out light from the glooms of time.
A. G. R.
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