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Poetry
Go softly now young Lightfoot,
"Somewhere the clouds are parting,
Beyond the cliffs along the sea,
The storm at last vanquished,
My brother has returned for me."
Frail and pallid eyes sadly vacant,
Silently his lips have grown still,
The mist has fallen over others,
The body now most chill.
The watchers eyes are closed submitting,
The final chorus has been sung,
Asleep, asleep the deathly slumber,
The mourning has begun.
We hold the shell and tenderly,
The child of dreamless days,
His passing like a saint of old,
With weeping and with praise.
Go softly now young Lightfoot,
To tread the courts of evermore,
Thy brothers wings at last enfold,
To bear thee to that shore.
Your hands are folded o'er your breast
As though thy soul takes ease,
Rest, rest O' beatiful son of songs,
Rest, rest in thy eternal peace.
Copyright Sidney E. Johnson
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