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