OLDEST PUPIL.
(motioning the musicians to lower their trumpets)
Not what it leaves behind it in the light
But what it carries with it to the dark
Exalts the soul; nor song nor trumpet-blast
Can call up races from the worsening world
To mend the wrong and mar the solitude
Of the great shade we follow to the tomb.
(Fedelm and the pupils go out carrying the litter. Some play
a mournful music.)
The man that dies has the chief part in the story,
And I will mock and mock and mock that image yonder
That evil picture in the sky—no, no—
I have all my strength again, I will outface it.
