Integer Vitae
A kind hand out of reach,
Silence instead of speech,
Our greatest heart forever laid at rest;
Only the lesson left
To millions now bereft,
How grand it is to take Life at its best.
Who has the fitting word,
When every breast is stirred
With sorrow far too deep for words to tell?
Yet, as amid Death's gloom,
Friends whisper in the room,
We speak of him who lived and died so well.
Night reigned beside the sea,
When morning came to thee,
Long-waiting heart, so patient and so brave!
Light fell upon thy door,
Pain ceased forevermore,
Back to its Maker fled the life He gave.
Like messengers in quest,
Then started east and west
Two tidal waves of sorrow 'round the world.
Millions of eyes were wet
Before the tidings met
Where in the Eastern seas our flags are furled.
Quickly, through throbbing wire,
Those waves of sorrow dire
Awoke across the land the mournful bells;
Men roused and could not sleep,
For, pulsing strong and deep,
All hearts that knew were ringing funeral knells.
Wives gazed in husbands' eyes,
And tears would slowly rise
For her who fought with Death so long alone;
And children with no task
Were left themselves to ask,
Why Death this father took, and not their own.
On all the shadow falls.
It hushes college halls,
It consecrates the cabins of the West;
The freedmen loved him well;
Soldiers his praises tell,
The rudest boatman is too sad to jest.
From rudest, lowliest ways
To Glory's brightest blaze
He passed, and threaded all hearts with his love;
True to his humblest friend,
True to life's noblest end,
True to the God he recognized above.
Not in his youthful pride,
Nor in the battle's tide,
Not in debate when Nations' fates were cast;
But in this gentle sleep
Which he to-day doth keep,
He won his greatest victory at the last.
Like the One Crucified,
He who so bravely died
Has made the world the better for his pain;
Surely we now may know
Our leader was laid low
To lift the Nation to a higher plane.
Still, over hills and dells,
The beautiful, sad bells
Repeat the Nation's sorrow for her son;
But he doth hear the chime
Of a more peaceful clime
Than Mentor's fields or quiet Elberon.
We say as once he said —
Our noble ruler dead —
" The Lord still reigns, the country is secure. "
There's none can fill his place.
Rule Thou, O God of grace!
And guide us on to days more bright and pure.
Silence instead of speech,
Our greatest heart forever laid at rest;
Only the lesson left
To millions now bereft,
How grand it is to take Life at its best.
Who has the fitting word,
When every breast is stirred
With sorrow far too deep for words to tell?
Yet, as amid Death's gloom,
Friends whisper in the room,
We speak of him who lived and died so well.
Night reigned beside the sea,
When morning came to thee,
Long-waiting heart, so patient and so brave!
Light fell upon thy door,
Pain ceased forevermore,
Back to its Maker fled the life He gave.
Like messengers in quest,
Then started east and west
Two tidal waves of sorrow 'round the world.
Millions of eyes were wet
Before the tidings met
Where in the Eastern seas our flags are furled.
Quickly, through throbbing wire,
Those waves of sorrow dire
Awoke across the land the mournful bells;
Men roused and could not sleep,
For, pulsing strong and deep,
All hearts that knew were ringing funeral knells.
Wives gazed in husbands' eyes,
And tears would slowly rise
For her who fought with Death so long alone;
And children with no task
Were left themselves to ask,
Why Death this father took, and not their own.
On all the shadow falls.
It hushes college halls,
It consecrates the cabins of the West;
The freedmen loved him well;
Soldiers his praises tell,
The rudest boatman is too sad to jest.
From rudest, lowliest ways
To Glory's brightest blaze
He passed, and threaded all hearts with his love;
True to his humblest friend,
True to life's noblest end,
True to the God he recognized above.
Not in his youthful pride,
Nor in the battle's tide,
Not in debate when Nations' fates were cast;
But in this gentle sleep
Which he to-day doth keep,
He won his greatest victory at the last.
Like the One Crucified,
He who so bravely died
Has made the world the better for his pain;
Surely we now may know
Our leader was laid low
To lift the Nation to a higher plane.
Still, over hills and dells,
The beautiful, sad bells
Repeat the Nation's sorrow for her son;
But he doth hear the chime
Of a more peaceful clime
Than Mentor's fields or quiet Elberon.
We say as once he said —
Our noble ruler dead —
" The Lord still reigns, the country is secure. "
There's none can fill his place.
Rule Thou, O God of grace!
And guide us on to days more bright and pure.
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