“The Great White Father!”

In memory of the late President McKinley.

ONE by one, with faces stern, severe,
     Walked the Indians by the casket grim
Of the “Great White Father,” on his bier
     Each a flower laid; no eyes were dim

With the tears they scorned, yet true their grief,
     Drenched in rain they all had waited long
Silently their turn, that seemed too brief,
     On his face to look, their “Father” strong!

Could that face so wan, refined by pain,
     Be the face of him they loved so well?
When they turned aside to wind, and rain,
     Nature’s tears their sorrow seemed to tell.

Humble tributes to the Indians’ grief
     Lay the flowers on the “Father’s” breast,
Told their mourning for a life too brief,
     Broken here, renewed among the blest.

“Great White Father,” sweet thy memory!
     Idol of a nation’s hope and love!
Torn from us no more our guide to be,
     Thou hast passed from death to life above!