A TRIBUTE.
SOFTLY, ye winds, O sigh softly to-day,
No wailing of grief on invisible wings,
No notes of sorrow, the bark 's on her way,
Transcendent with fame is the burden she brings;
Gently, I plead, O fill gently her sails,
That safely the pilot intrusted may guide;
Suppress now, ye clouds, your lightnings and gales,
That peacefully homeward our treasure may glide.
No wailing of grief on invisible wings,
No notes of sorrow, the bark 's on her way,
Transcendent with fame is the burden she brings;
Gently, I plead, O fill gently her sails,
That safely the pilot intrusted may guide;
Suppress now, ye clouds, your lightnings and gales,
That peacefully homeward our treasure may glide.
Dark sea, on thy bosom unconsciously bearing
A casket more rare than a mountain of gold,
In thy caverns no gems are with it comparing;
No language can ever his genius unfold;
Sing, ye sweet minstrels, your anthems keep trilling,
The forests are waiting with laurel and pine,
Our gardens and vales their sweets are distilling,
That we for the fallen a chaplet may twine.
A casket more rare than a mountain of gold,
In thy caverns no gems are with it comparing;
No language can ever his genius unfold;
Sing, ye sweet minstrels, your anthems keep trilling,
The forests are waiting with laurel and pine,
Our gardens and vales their sweets are distilling,
That we for the fallen a chaplet may twine.
A chaplet for him; how long is the story
Of his deeds and his worth, now low on his bier,
Outshining all the bright crown of his glory;
Why mourn or why shed for this hero a tear?
Of his deeds and his worth, now low on his bier,
Outshining all the bright crown of his glory;
Why mourn or why shed for this hero a tear?
