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Weep, waves of England! Nobler clay

Was ne’er to nobler grave consigned;

The wild waves weep with us to-day

Who mourn a nation’s master mind.

We hoped an honored age for him,

And ashes laid with England’s great;

And rapturous music, and the dim,

Deep hush that veils our Tomb of State.

But this is better. Let him sleep

Where sleep the men who made us free,

For England’s heart is in the deep,

And England’s glory is the sea.

One only vow above his bier,

One only oath beside his bed:

We swear our flag shall shield him here

Until the sea gives up its dead!

Leap, waves of England! Boastful be,

And fling defiance in the blast,

For Earth is envious of the Sea

Which shelters England’s dead at last.

—Robert J. C. Stead.

From “Kitchener and Other Poems” by permission of The Musson Book Company, Limited, Toronto.