Poetry of Kansas


THE prayer is said, the hymn is sung,
    The calm dead face from us is hid___
The solemn knell is sadly rung,
    The clods fall on the coffin lid.
It is an autumn afternoon___
    The blue-fringed gentian nods its head
Above the open grave that soon
    Will rise between us and the dead.
I gaze upon the heap of ground
    That hides my last, my dearest friend___
This tearful throng, this silent mound,
    Is this the end, is this the end?

__Albert Bigelow Paine.

Rhymes by Two Friends
Albert Bigelow Paine & William Allen White
(Fort Scott: M. L. Izor and Son. 1893)
Page 133
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October 6, 2002 / John & Susan Howell / Wichita, Kansas / howell@kotn.org

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