He that fears not the voice he hears and loves shall never have heart to sing: All the grace of the sun-god's face that bids the soul as a fountain spring Bids the brow that receives it bow, and hail his likeness on earth as king. We that knew when the sun's shaft flew beheld and worshipped, adored and heard: Light rang round it of shining sound, whence all men's hearts were subdued and stirred: Joy, love, sorrow, the day, the morrow, took life upon them in one man's word. Not for him can the years wax dim, nor downward swerve on a darkening way: Upward wind they, and leave behind such light as lightens the front of May: Fair as youth and sublime as truth we find the fame that we hail to-day. THRENODY OCTOBER 6, 1892 I Life, sublime and serene when time had power upon it and ruled its breath, Changed it, bade it be glad or sad, and hear what change in the world's ear saith, Shines more fair in the starrier air whose glory lightens the dusk of death. Suns that sink on the wan sea's brink, and moons that kindle and flame and fade, Leave more clear for the darkness here the stars that set not and see not shade Rise and rise on the lowlier skies by rule of sunlight and moonlight swayed. So, when night for his eyes grew bright, his proud head pillowed on Shakespeare's breast, Hand in hand with him, soon to stand where shine the glories that death loves best, Passed the light of his face from sight, and sank sublimely to radiant rest. II Far above us and all our love, beyond all reach of its voiceless praise, Shines for ever the name that never shall feel the shade of the changeful days Fall and chill the delight that still sees winter's light on it shine like May's. Strong as death is the dark day's breath whose blast has withered the life we see Here where light is the child of night, and less than visions or dreams are we: Strong as death; but a word, a breath, a dream is stronger than death can be. Strong as truth and superb in youth eternal, fair as the sundawn's flame Seen when May on her first-born day bids earth exult in her radiant name, Lives, clothed round with its praise and crowned with love that dies not, his love-lit fame. III Fairer far than the morning star, and sweet for us as the songs that rang Loud through heaven from the choral Seven when all the stars of the morning sang, Shines the song that we loved so long--since first such love in us flamed and sprang.