Bring flowers–but not the gay,
The tender, nor the sweet;
But such as winter’s chill winds lay
Faded and dank across the spray,
Or strew beneath the feet.
Bring flowers to strew the bier:
He will be ready soon;
Already are his beauties sere;
And the much–hailed, time–honoured year
To death is passing down.
He hath a warrior been;
And in the hallowed clime,
Where spiry rock and dark ravine
Guard the old cedar’s solemn green,
Hath sped the march of Time.
He hath, in happy mood,
Turned priest, and charmed the spot
Where in her queenly womanhood
Our nation’s hope betroth
(Henry Alford)
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Based on Topics: Time Poems, Death & Dying Poems, Happiness PoemsBased on Keywords: betroth, spiry, time-honoured