These men of whom fate designed

To be the monuments of time

The cornerstones of centuries

Of chivalry, benign.

Whose voices echo deep

Resounding and awakening

Our forefathers’ poisoned sleep by-

Stealthy conquest of our island keep

Though your footsteps may be muted

By the tide’s orchestral sound

And your images be shrouded

Upon these leaves, and leaves unbound!

Might your blood upon this ground

Been tainted brown and trampled on

And upon your graves, sepulchers,

There grow weeds or withered palm.

Bare you back to all these shame –

For these nothing bring but shame –

To the revered of most names

To whom destiny owes its frame

Over the tides, the ebb and flow,

With my thousand apologies

Greats, keep to memory all the same

That amidst this ingrate clime

You are men whom fate designed

To be monuments of time

And as cornerstones of centuries,

And of chivalry, benign.

Suggested Poems for Funerals