WE did not spare to speak him ill But yesterday, as one might do If it were only I or you; And now the breath of blame is still. O strife of creeds, and party cry, And every voice dividing men, God sends a silence through you when His great dark angel passes by! Were we quite sure of all we said? We would not say or think it now; In penitence our heads we bow; We know him—after he is dead. Well may the tears of sorrow fall; Perhaps he had a larger part Than you or I, in his great heart, With One of old who died for all. And where the guilt? Ah, who shall say How near to some well meaning one The tangled thread of cause may run? For tongue and pen have power to slay. Who knows that idle words and vain, Flung off like arrows in the dark, May never somewhere strike the spark That fires to crime an idle brain? But it is done, and all is o'er; We shall not see his face again; We know he loved his fellow men, And loved his God: what would we more? The clouds will clear; where shines afar That galaxy of good and great As pilot-beacons for the State, Look up and find another star. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MARTHA WASHINGTON by SIDNEY LANIER GOLIATH AND DAVID by ROBERT RANKE GRAVES THE EAGLE THAT IS FORGOTTEN by NICHOLAS VACHEL LINDSAY TO A POET THAT DIED YOUNG by EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY L.E.L. by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI THE HOUSE OF LIFE: 7. SUPREME SURRENDER by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI |