WHOLE nations mourn; and why this silent grief?
Why doth the soft winds chant a hushed refrain?
The busy world drops care and toil just now
And with one voice of pleading cries for strength
In this sad hour. Our noble Chieftain kind,
Whom none had cause to hate and all could love,
So stricken down by anarchy’s foul hand;
He lies with folded hands so still in death,
Life’s struggles o’er. A nation’s pent up grief
Now cries for justice. Let our country rise
And strike a blow at anarchy’s foul breast,
While our proud flag in honored triumph waves
O’er this our own free land. No treacherous hand
Shall tear our colors down, no hand o’erthrow
Our government so strong, so firm, and true.
Our wise and careful ruler peaceful sleeps
While thoughts and sympathies from shore to shore,
Join us in one deep rising tide of grief,
And messages speed from lands across the seas,
“God cheer and comfort her who bravely watched
And faltered not,” though but too well she knew
He soon would pass beyond to unseen shores.
Within the deep still chambers of the heart
We mourn a nation’s loss. Our brave, our slain;
But nearer, clearer, comes an echoing cry,
Caught up by millions, loyal, strong and true,
Anarchy shall be crushed, God speed the right.
