Song for the Funeral of a Boy

1. On stems from silver woods
Carry him, young companions, to the glen
Where white Olympus broods;
Flushes of rustlers shall precede you then
By bush and glade
Low-thrilling and afraid;
And as along its curve of shore ye pass
The dark tarn ruddied with the pine shall glass,
Moving to hymns out of its lonely ken,
The boy's light bier, with beaded rushes laid.

2. In beeches shall the fawn
An hoof suspend, to learn from that clear sound
His eager mate withdrawn
For ever unto free and sylvan ground.
Up in her hold
The wide-wing'd Azure cold
Mantling in gyre on gyre shall mark him come
By root-paven paths borne, and great bee's hum
Swing through your brief procession, winding round
The endless alleys up that Mountain old.