Tribute to Gladstone

Lift up your heads; in life, in death,God knoweth his head was high;Quit we the coward's broken breath,Who watched a strong man die.

If ye must say "No more his peerCometh: the flag is furled,"Stand not too near him; lest we hearThat slander on the world

The good green earth he loved and trodIs still, with many a scar,Writ in the chronicles of GodA giant-bearing star.

He fell: but Britain's banner swingsAbove his sunken crown;Black Death shall have his toil of kingsBefore the cross goes down.

O young ones of a darker day,In Art's wan colours clad,Whose very love and hate are grey,Whose very sin is sad,

Pass on: one agony long-drawnWas merrier than your mirth;When hand in hand came death and dawnAnd spring was on the earth.