Poetry Archives

Afar my loyal spirit stirred
  At mention of his name;
Afar in ringing notes I heard
  The clarion voice of fame;
So to his tomb, hope long deferred,
  With reverent step I came.

The pilgrim muse revivified
  A half-forgotten day:
A slow procession, tearful-eyed,
  In funeral array,
And from MacGregor’s lonely side
  A hero borne away.

Here sleeps he now, where long ago
  Hath nature raised his mound:
A mighty channel far below,
  Divided hills around,
Where countless thousands come and go
  As to a shrine renowned.

With awe do strangers’ eyes discern
  A casket mid the green
Luxuriance of flower and fern;
  Airy and cool and clean,
Unchanged from spring to spring’s return,
  This charnel chamber scene.

His country’s weal his care and thought,
  Beloved in peace was he;
Magnanimous in war—shall not
  The nation grateful be,
And render at his burial spot
  A testimonial free?

Oh, let us, ere the days come on
  When energy is spent,
To him, the silent soldier gone,
  Statesman and President,
On Riverside’s majestic lawn
  Uprear a monument.