Katharine Lee Bates - The Funeral of Phillips Brooks III lyrics

"For all the saints who from their labors rest"-- White gleam the lilies on the lifted bier, As reverently the youthful bearers rear Their sad, belovéd burden, pacing west, Whilst all that host, as from a single breast, One voice of praise outringing sweet and clear, Peals the triumphal chant he loved to hear: "Thy name, O Jesu, be forever blest." Ah, turn and watch the pageantry of woe Out through the darkened door. The glory-hymn Wavers a space, but swells again, for lo! The dismal pomp of d**h, the mourners slow, The shrouded casket on the vision dim, That gleam of Easter lilies dazzles so.