An Undergraduate Poem

An old Portora boy's tribute to the late Dr. Biggs (accidentally drowned in Lough Erne, July 1904)

Calm was the evening; and the lake as calm Showed not a ripple on its placid breast; Peaceful was Nature, when the one we loved Passed quietly to his rest.

Not racked by pain, nor marred by fell disease, He bowed beneath the Almighty's chastening rod--- With heart at ease, and praise upon his lips, He went to meet his God.

The tears and anguish of the bed of death A loving Father spared his closing eye-- The gentle murmuring waters sang his dirge; The soft winds breathed a sigh.

Not far were ready hands and loving hearts-- His voice they heard not, nor his peril knew; Alone God met him; and that solemn scene Was veiled from human view.

O raise him gently from the wat'ry depths; And gaze with reverence on that noble head Stamped with the beauty of a lofty soul, A spirit that is fled.

All lines of grief, all trace of human care Death's kindly hand has smoothed from his brow; And perfect peace alone and holy calm Are seen there now.

Weep ye no more, sad mourners; let us cease To wail the sudden stroke with idle breath; Pure was his life; his soul seven times refined And ripe for death.

With eyes that strove to pierce the veil of time And view the Unseen, he ran his mortal race; The veil is passed; with clearer vision now He sees Him face to face.

Perhaps some coming grief, some sorrow dread Or wasting sickness, fraught with heavy woe, The All-seeing saw, and stretched His saving arm To snatch him from the blow.

Weep not for him, but for ourselves bereft Of a strong champion in this earthly strife; A rock to which his weaker brethren clung Amid the storms of life.

Weep not for him, but mourn for those young lives Orphaned so soon of teacher and of guide; The flock left shepherdless, their loved one's form Torn quickly from their side.

Where, in the wide world, shall we find again So wise a counsellor, a friend so true? Nay, cease regrets, but let us up and strive, As he has done, to do.

Still from the grave he speaks; revealed by death, Shines clearer forth the beauty of his life; Still the good fight he fought gives us new strength To conquer in the strife.