< Page:Demeter and other poems (IA demeterotherpoem00tennrich).pdf
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100
HAPPY
They bore the Cross before you to the chant of funeral hymns.
xiii.
‘Libera me, Domine!’ you sang the Psalm, and when
The Priest pronounced you dead, and flung the mould upon your feet,
A beauty came upon your face, not that of living men,
But seen upon the silent brow when life has ceased to beat.
‘Libera me, Domine!’ you sang the Psalm, and when
The Priest pronounced you dead, and flung the mould upon your feet,
A beauty came upon your face, not that of living men,
But seen upon the silent brow when life has ceased to beat.
xiv.
‘Libera nos, Domino’—you knew not one was there
Who saw you kneel beside your bier, and weeping scarce could see;
‘Libera nos, Domino’—you knew not one was there
Who saw you kneel beside your bier, and weeping scarce could see;
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