"charles dickens is dead."
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Cut down and bound, lay garnered there,
A priceless harvest claimed by God.
A priceless harvest claimed by God.
IV.
O mystery of futile breath!
A sob, a gasp, a hurried sigh;
O mystery of sudden death!
How dare we live? how dare we die?
A sob, a gasp, a hurried sigh;
O mystery of sudden death!
How dare we live? how dare we die?
V.
Grey Abbey, 'neath thy storied spires
This consecrated dust enshrine;
Peal out the welcome of thy choirs,
Open for him thy gates divine.
This consecrated dust enshrine;
Peal out the welcome of thy choirs,
Open for him thy gates divine.
VI.
Something of sweetness, pathos, mirth,
With him from all our lives is gone;
A light has faded from each hearth;
Our household words have lost a tone.
With him from all our lives is gone;
A light has faded from each hearth;
Our household words have lost a tone.
VII.
Amongst us men he stood a man
Of quicker pulses, larger brains;
Of quicker pulses, larger brains;
