(October 6th, 1891.)

Hush—let no whisper of the cruel strife,
Wherein he fell so bravely fighting, fall
Nigh these dead ears; fain would our hearts recall
Nought but proud memories of a noble life —
Of unmatched skill to lead by pathways rife
With danger and dark doubt, where slander’s knife
Gleamed ever bare to wound, yet over all
He pressed triumphant on—lo, thus to fall.
Through and beyond the breach he living made
Shall Erin pass to freedom and to will,
And shape her fate: there where his limbs are laid
No harsh reproach dare penetrate the shade;
Death’s angel guards the door, and o’er the sill
A mightier voice than Death’s speaks “Peace, be still!”