BURIED IN FAHAN CHURCHYARD
Alone with Christ in this sequester’d place
Thy sweet soul learn’d its quietude of grace;
On sufferers waiting in this vale of ours,
Thy gifted touch was train’d to higher powers.
Therefore when death, O Agnes! came to thee-
Not on the cool breath of our lakelike sea,
But in the workhouse hospital’s hot ward,
A gentle helper with the gentle Lord,-
Proudly as men heroic ashes claim,
We ask’d to have thy fever-stricken frame,
And lay it in our grass beside our foam,
Till Christ the Healer call His healers home.
(Archbishop William Alexander)
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Based on Topics: Death & Dying Poems, Home PoemsBased on Keywords: healer, sufferers, workhouse, sequester, fever-stricken, healers, fahan