The New Compass: A Critical Review
Coronach for
Christopher Drummond
Helen Pinkerton
By lamp or
morning light,
Bent close
over the page,
You heard
the language right,
No matter
from what age.
Whether Jonson's grieving prayers,
Or
Or
Melville's rugged verse,
Or Winters' densest lines,
Your mind
knew the intent,
Your voice
wakened the sound—
The sleeping
beauty pent
In chambers
underground.
Surrounded
now by noise,
My words,
that sought your praise,
Your
understanding voice,
Confront the
silent days.
Pinkerton,
Helen. “Coronach for Christopher
Drummond.” The New Compass: A Critical Review 1 (June 2003)
<http://www.thenewcompass.ca/jun2003/pinkerton.html>