Lux e Tenebris

“Nearer to thee;” with dying lips he spoke
     The sacred words of Christian hope and cheer,
As toward the Valley of the Shadow passed
     His calm, heroic soul that knew not fear.

“Thy will be done;” the anxious watchers heard
     The faint low whisper in the silent room;
Earth’s darkness merging fast into the dawn,
     Eternal Day for Night of somber gloom.

“It is God’s will;” as he had lived he died—
     Statesman and soldier, fearing not to bear
Fate’s heavy cross; while swift from sea to sea
     Rolled the deep accents of a nation’s prayer.

“Dust unto dust;” in solemn state he lies
     Who bowed to Death, yet won a deathless name,
And wears in triumph on his marble brow
     The martyr’s crown, the hero’s wreath of fame.