By Alice Ross-King
He has passed forth into the unknown light,
And yet what need of unavailing tears?
The book of life God called him to indite
Lies nobly finished, East is now his right,
Who toiled unceasing through the darkening years.
He buried not his talents out of sight,
But greatly used these for the world's delight -
Life welcomes death, as toilers welcome night.
And since he guarded with a lover's care,
The honour and the glory of this land,
And gave himself that men might understand
All that was pure in her, and good and fair,
Let her pay this high tribute to his dust -
Prove herself worthy
of his tireless trust.
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