Burial of Moses, The
The, a well known poem by Mrs. Cecil Frances Alexander, an Irish poet who died in 1895. There are few poems in which the language and the metrical form are more appropriate to the emotions suggested. It is, therefore, a poem that will never cease to be read.
This was the truest warrior
That ever buckled sword,--
This the most gifted poet
That ever breathed a word;
And never earth's philosopher
Traced with his golden pen,
On the deathless page, truths half so sage
As he wrote down for men.
That ever buckled sword,--
This the most gifted poet
That ever breathed a word;
And never earth's philosopher
Traced with his golden pen,
On the deathless page, truths half so sage
As he wrote down for men.
And had he not high honor--
The hill-side for a pall,--
To lie in state while angels wait,
With stars for tapers tall,--
And the dark rock-pines, like tossing plumes,
Over his bier to wave,
And God's own hand in that lonely land,
To lay him in the grave?
The hill-side for a pall,--
To lie in state while angels wait,
With stars for tapers tall,--
And the dark rock-pines, like tossing plumes,
Over his bier to wave,
And God's own hand in that lonely land,
To lay him in the grave?
Volume I · Aiton’s Encyclopedia