Epitaph For an Airman
George Nichols
The shouting wind shall be his requiem,
The falling star his lofty monument;
No earthbound pangs can honour add to them
Who seek their honours in the firmament.
The light of dawn shall be his votive flame,
The purple cloud of dusk his canopy;
Who lived and died with dusk and dawn may claim
No lower tribute than this panoply.
His guiding stars shall now his bearers be
In mute procession through the mourning skies-
Partaker now of that high mystery
He could not share till death had made him wise.
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