Page:A New Zealand verse (1906).pdf/261
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Burial of Sir John McKenzie.
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And the long years will bring An unclouded fame;And unmingled joy will spring When men hear his name.Till every voice in poean highHas joined in the exultant cry—“The brave man’s death is victory.”
CLVIII.
The Burial of Sir John McKenzie.
They played him home to the House of Stones, All the way, all the way,To his grave in the sound of the winter sea. The sky was dour, the sky was grey.They played him home with the chieftain’s dirgeTill the wail was wed to the rolling surge.They played him home with a sorrowful willTo his grave at the foot of the Holy Hill; And the pipes went mourning all the way.
Strong hands that had struck for right All the day, all the day,Folded now in the dark of earth,— The veiled dawn of the upper way!Strong hands that struck with hisFrom days that were to the day that isCarry him now from the house of woeTo ride the way the Chief must go;And his peers went mourning all the way.