Peace, his triumph will be sung By some yet unmolded tongue, Far on in summers that we shall not see; Peace, it is a day of pain For one about whose patriarchal knee Late the little children clung; O peace, it is a day of pain For one upon whose hand and heart and brain Once the weight and fate of Europe hung. Ours the pain, be his the gain! More than is of man's degree Must be with us, watching here At this, our great solemnity. Whom we see not, we revere; We revere, and we refrain From talk of battles loud and vain, And brawling memories all too free. For such a wise humility As befits a solemn fame: We revere, and while we hear The tides of music's golden sea Setting toward eternity, Uplifted high in heart and hope are we, Until we doubt not that for one so true There must be other nobler work to do Than when he fought at Waterloo; And Victor he must ever be, For tho' the Giant Ages heave the hill And break the shore, and evermore Make and break and work their will; Tho' world on world in myriad myriads roll Round us, each with different powers, And other forms of life than ours, What know we greater than the soul? On God and godlike men we build our trust. Hush, the Dead March wails in the people's ears; The dark crowd moves, and there are sobs and tears: The black earth yawns; the mortal disappears; Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. He is gone who seemed so great-- Gone; but nothing can bereave him Of the force he made his own Being here, and we believe him Something far advanced in state, And that he wears a truer crown Than any wreath that man can weave him. Speak no more of his renown, Lay your earthly fancies down, And in the vast cathedral leave him, God accept him, Christ receive him! II GEORGE CANNING POLITICAL POETRY ["The Needy Knife-Grinder," which follows, was one of the most notable contributions which appeared in "The Anti-Jacobin." It is scarcely necessary to point out its satire upon the humanitarian sympathies of those Englishmen who had been carried away by the ideas of the French Revolution. The verses--a parody of Stanley's "Sapphics"--were the joint production of George Canning and John Hookham Frere.] THE FRIEND OF HUMANITY AND THE NEEDY KNIFE-GRINDER FRIEND OF HUMANITY Needy knife-grinder! Whither are you going? Rough is the road; your wheel is out of order; Bleak blows the blast; your hat has got a hole in't, So have your breeches! Weary knife-grinder! little think the proud ones Who in their coaches roll along the turnpike Road, what hard work 'tis crying all day "Knives and Scissors to grind O!" Tell me, knife-grinder, how you came to grind knives? Did some rich man tyrannically use you? Was it some squire? or parson of the parish? Or the attorney? Was it the squire for killing of his game? Or Covetous parson, for his tithes distraining? Or roguish lawyer, made you lose your little All in a lawsuit?