James and Mary Ford, eds. Every Day in the Year. 1902.
January 23On the Death of Canon Kingsley
By Paul Hamilton Hayne (18301886)M
Vitalized radiance, keen, intense, and high,
Whose souls, like planets in a dominant sky,
Burn with full forces of eternity:
From that pure heaven he lived in; holiest worth
Of will and work was his, to brighten earth,
Heal its foul wounds, and beautify its dearth.
Yet walked the world; through many a sufferer’s door
He shone like morning; comfort streamed before
His footsteps; on the feeble and the poor
Christ’s soldier! To his trumpet-call he sprung,
Eager, elate; valiant of pen and tongue,
Grand were the words he spake, the songs he sung.
Thou shouldst have lived when on thine England’s sod
Giants of faith and seers of freedom trod,
Daring all things to break the oppressor’s rod.
In theirs—that age of fervent, fruitful breath,
When, scorning treachery, and defying death,
Her true knights girt their loved Elizabeth,
Then hadst thou ranged with Raleigh land and sea,
Bible and sword in hand, gone forth with Leigh,
The tyrant smote, the heathen folk made free!
In measure scarce less glorious and complete
Than theirs who bearded on his chosen seat
The bloody Antichrist; or fleet to fleet,
At Britain’s Salamis; the heroic strain
Ran purpling all thy nature like a vein
Oped from God’s heart to thine; the loftiest plane
Thou trod’st on triumphing; thy Viking’s face
Showed granite-willed, yet softened into grace
By effluence of good deeds, the angelic race
Of prayers to prompt, and aid them! Fare thee well,
Clear spirit and strong! thy life-work nobly done,
Shines beautiful as some unsetting sun
O’er Arctic summers; chords of victory run
Even through the mournful boom of thy deep funeral knell!