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Harriet Monroe - Ære Perennius
Work rating: Low

Look on the dead. Stately and pure he lies 
Under the white sheet`s marble folds. For him 
The solemn bier, the scented chamber dim, 
The sacred hush, the bowed heads of the wise, 
The slow pomp, the majestical disguise 
Of haughty death, the conjurer—even for him, 
Poor trivial one, pale shadow on the rim,. 
Whom life marked not, but death may not despise. 
Now is he level with the great; no king 
Enthroned and crowned more royal is, more sure
Of the world`s reverence. Yesterday this thing 
Was but a man, mortal and insecure; 
Now chance and change their homage to him bring 
And he is one with all things that endure.
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