Translation of John Sullivan's
on the Death of Sir Robert Pipon Marett,
Knt., Bailiff of Jersey and President of the States
&c., &c.


Poetry in Jersey


Jersey, Jersey! standing here
At a moment so supreme,
Thou art trembling round this bier,
And thye shield, wise sister dear,
Sable shows in grief extreme.

Laelius toward the Holy Shore
(Weep not for him) flies away,
He for thee poured all his store,
Heart and spirit, life and more,
Yea to this his dying day.

Caesarea! grateful isle,
To his memory he leaves
Monuments, a glorious pile,
On thy story's sacred file,
Showing what thy son achieves.

Children of theis happy land!
Do as Laelius has done,
Serve our Jersey, heart and hand,
And with him like Marius stand,
Battle till the goal is won.

Muse, lead on the mournful song;
Lo, the land its Mentor weeps
Soul, take courage, pace along
While thy harp-strings sweet & strong
Chant, “he is not dead - he sleeps.”

He for us Lysurgus stood,
On the throne of Law enshrined,
Claiming all our gratitude,
For his edicts wise and good
Sprung from that immortal mind.

Martin F. Tupper
Nouvelle Chronique de Jersey 22/11/1884




Poetry in Jersey





La Société Jersiaise

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