gathered within
the Abbey walls, and of the thousands who, though absent, acknowledged
that England had lost one of her bravest warriors and most unselfish
patriots, one whose warfare had been marked by acts of daring rarely
equalled, and whose patriotism had brought upon him sufferings such as
few in modern times have had to endure. The solemn anthem chanted over
his grave, "His body is buried in peace, but his memory shall live for
ever," echoed far and wide, and awakened in every breast keen sentiments
of sympathy for what he had borne and of pride in what he had done.

Ashes to Ashes! Lay the hero down
Within the grey old Abbey's glorious shade.
In our Walhalla ne'er was worthier laid
Since martyr first won palm, or victor crown.

'Tis well the State he served no farthing pays
To grace with pomp and honour all too late
His grave, whom, living, Statesmen dogged with hate,
Denying justice, and withholding praise.

Let England hide her face above his tomb,
As much for shame as sorrow. Let her think
Upon the bitter cup he had to drink--
Heroic soul, branded with felon's doom.

A Sea-King, whose fit place had been by Blake,
Or our own Nelson, had he been but free
To follow glory's quest upon the sea,
Leading the conquered navies in his wake--

A Captain, whom it had been ours to cheer
From conquest on to conquest, had our land
But set its wisest, worthiest in command,
Not such as hated all the good revere.

We let them cage the Lion while the fire
In his high heart burnt clear and unsubdued;
We let them stir that frank and forward mood
From greatness to the self-consuming ire,

The fret and chafe that wait on service scorned,
Justice denied, and truth to silence driven;
From men we left him to appeal to Heaven,
'Gainst fraud set high, and evidence suborned--

We left him, with bound arms, to mark the sword
Given to weak hands; left him, with working brain,
To see rogues traffic, and fools rashly reign,
Where Strength should have been guide, and Honour lord--

Left him to cry aloud, without support,
Against the creeping things that eat away
Our wooden walls, and boast as they betray,
The base supporters of a baser Court,

The crawling worms that in corruption breed,
And on corruption batten, till at last
Mistaken honour the proud victim cast
Out to their spite, to writhe, and pant, a