Andrew Macphail, comp. The Book of Sorrow. 1916.
To BearersArthur Thomas Quiller-Couch (18631944)
M
Your pale young queen;
Two at her feet, two at her head,
And four between.—
Not as we wanted it,
But as God granted it.
To the organ swell,
Keep we the rank, treading in time—
But one dull bell.
Open the gates for her!
The Bridegroom waits for her.
But she—she knew;
Walking aloof, placid of brow
Her short life through
Scornful, in surety
Guarding her purity.
Cover her breast:
Babes of the dream now that she hath
Sleep in her rest.
Our peace above her let
Fall for her coverlet.