Classic Poem

Shining so gloriously,
What dost thou here?
Only last evensong
Spread we thy bier,
Lit the tall tapers white,
Ghastly and drear.

Two stood at side and foot,
Two at thy head;
Over thee, full and wide,
Black the pall spread;
Slow tolled the mellow bell,
For—thou wert dead.

Lilies lay on thy breast,
I placed them there;
None, priest or kin or earl,
Guessed my despair
As I wreathed bud and bloom
In thy dark hair.

Have thy white feet, O Love,
Spotless which trod
Over the mire and clay
Of the earth's sod,
No brighter paths to tread
Nearer to God?

Thus cried my soul last night,
Fearful and loud.
Glanced out the silver moon
From a swift cloud,
Laid all her light on thee
Dumb in thy shroud.

Never came smile or frown
Over thy face;
No whisper answered me
In that still place;
White shone the tapers tall
On thy dead grace.

On thy fringed pall I lay,
Prone by thy bier,
While the night-watches passed
Fearful and drear.
Oh! could mere icy dust
Still be so dear?

But when the dawn arose,
Golden and grey,
Bier, pall and tapers high
Vanished away;
Nor looked my anguished eyes
On thy dead clay.

Shining so gloriously,
I saw thee stand
With our dead children three
Clasped by the hand;
And round thy brows were set
Stars in a band.

Cried then my soul of souls:
“Answer, O clay!
Shall those fond eyes of thine
Slumber alway?
That brow in noisome dust
Vanish away?

“Those tender hands of thine,
Gracious and kind,
Turned into clay and ash,
Drift on the wind?
Sealed ever thy pure lips,
And thine eyes blind?

“Shall that sweet heart of thine,
Noble and true,
Moulder to feed the sap
Of the weird yew?
Or the small graveside bud
Wet with death's dew?

“Answer my groaning soul,
O thou dear clay!
Shall that brave soul of thine
Tremble away
Into dark nothingness?
Answer, and say

“Shall all the gracious deeds
Hands, heart and soul
Nobly have joined to work
Win thee no dole?
Hast thy fair, beauteous life
Won its last goal?”