To the Noble One, Him I will call SIR:
Inspire us with your Legacy, dear Captain of the Plym!
May your Spirit live on; Your Soul everlasting
That Generations from and beyond your Lineage
Will learn from your Values and carry through
The Traditions of Love, Health, Honour and Family.
So it shall be.
Even as your House sleeps beneath the Cool, Earth-Blanket
You can hear your Three Soldiers cry and pledge their Acclaim:
One already conquered the Waves; Ready to fulfill your Dream with Gold,
The Other strengthened His Will; Bracing for his Chosen Path;
And the Youngest - your Lamp-Bearer - calm but determined in His Goal,
Kept His Journal's Promise; And resolved to face the World.
Finally - the Endearing One - whose Tears She held for Breath,
Placed Twelve Pink Carnations on your Blanket; One Stem for each Moon,
And for each Moon the Leaves added another Fruit to her Basket
Remembering their Heart's Grown Tale; And Seeds burst into Bloom.
And as They began to retire from this Love-Worn Day,
With the Eldest remembering his Assignment to Drive
The Twelve Pink Carnations suddenly sprang-up to Play,
Speared their Roots to the Ground; And used the Soil's Feet to Jive
To that Lonely but Powerful Hymn of Praise:
"Thank you, dear Heavens, for this Wonderful Father!
Thank you for the Years, Months, Hours and Minutes spent with Him!
Bring the Captain to his Bounty, O Mighty Roar of the River!
Feed Him with the Light that only Shines from Within!"
And as They left, smiling, turning the Page without regret
The Sexton stood nearby, witnessing the Event
Of the Family resolved to rest and celebrate this Day,
Remembering the Noble Deeds of how this Man forged and lived
And the Sexton, in his home-grown Promise,
Wiped the Father's Stone with an Ivory-Cloth and placed it to his Chest:
"To Live my own Tale; To Write my own Page,
With you as an Example on how to make it the Best!"
Thus the Song ends; With him retreating to the Tree,
Showing his Fruits of how he can be Devoted as HE.