Russell Gurney

In that high country whither thou art gone, Right noble friend, thou walkest with thy peers, The gathered great of many a hundred years! Few are left like thee-few, I say, not none, Else were thy England soon a Babylon, A land of outcry, mockery, and tears! Higher than law, a refuge from its fears, Wast thou, in whom embodied Justice shone. The smile that gracious broke on thy grand face Was like the sunrise of a morn serene Among the mountains, making sweet their awe. Thou both the gentle and the strong didst draw; Thee childhood loved, and on thy breast would lean, As, whence thou cam'st, it knew the lofty place.