|A great wind blew upon that day, |
a ship that broke upon the sea,
its sails and pull it from the bay
where it once and long had lain
journey that its last would be.
A gust that
caught a history;
An autumn breeze that came in
That blows away the leaves and memory
Who, once the beauty of their trees,
branch to which they fastly cling.
A breath to sing the
And turn the final pages of the
In which the golden, flowing letters wrote
A life now set beneath its stone;
and in our core we shook.
The Western Wind in billowed sails
the oaken ship to azure crest
And ripped the
withered leaf within its gales
Has closed the book
and ceased its tale
Upon the wooden tomb—still let
Beyond our view,
in toss and swell
The high, proud stern to
which we’ve set our eyes,
It glints from far
away: bestows farewell.
And we, o’ercome with tears, remain,
But not to disregard here where he lies.
Br Paul Stein, of the Legionaries of Christ,
studies for the priesthood in Rome.