Song For The Funeral Of A Boy

1

On stems from silver woods Carry him, young companions, to the glen Where white Olympus broods; Flushes of rustlers shall precede you then By bush and glade Low-thrilling and afraid; And as along its curve of shore ye pass The dark tarn ruddied with the pine shall glass, Moving to hymns out of its lonely ken, The boy’s light bier, with beaded rushes laid.

2

In beeches shall the fawn An hoof suspend, to learn from that clear sound His eager mate withdrawn For ever unto free and sylvan ground. Up in her hold The wide-wing’d Azure cold Mantling in gyre on gyre shall mark him come By root-paven paths borne, and great bee’s hum Swing through your brief procession, winding round The endless alleys up that Mountain old.

3

In some low space of green Where fleecy mists, bright runnels newly rain’d, And springing wands are seen But nothing yet to gnarlëd eld attain’d Let his head nigh The chrisom violet lie; And put at hand the sling to him most dear, The sheaf of arrows light, the dauntless spear, The lute untroubled on the heart unstain’d; Then, taking hands around him, sing good-bye.

4

Praise limbs that robb’d the cloud Of vengeful eagles, and for this rough nest, This egg, embraced the loud And everlasting sea-crag’s salty breast! Praise to the face That smiled on nothing base! Hymn ye the laughter of his happy soul— His secret kindness to your secret dole; The heavenly-minded brook shall mourn him best When ye have kiss’d his cheek, quitting the place.

5

This ditty from the brake, This rainbow from the waters, fades; and Night That little pyre shall take In flame and cloud;—but O! when the bloom of light With breathless glow Along the tops of snow Tells out to all the valleys Night is done,— Think of the boy, ye young companions bright, Not without joy; for he hath loved and gone As dews that on the uplands shine and go!