The farewell service for the Prince of Antigua
as inspiring to behold and to hear,
as witness after witness testified freely
of his graciousness, greatness and loving care
with hyperboles plenty, without a false note.
They lifted up Dr. Ramsey, heavier and larger
than life, man among men, healer and friend,
and all Antigua lifted up the chorus: Amen.
Versatile and versed in whatever endeavour:
writing calypso, slamming dominoes,
ministering to AIDS, he shunned the mediocre,
only excellence goes.
But for his poignant strain, “man is nothing but dust”,
melodiously mouthed by De Bear,
I did not know him in life, but they washed his wear
and hung then on the line at St. John the Divine
in St. John’s today, and he smelled clean.
In spite of his doleful philosophy of dust,
his sights on glory seem eternally just.
Antigua played him fair with a riot of love,
a forest of flowers decorated the hearse;
as his sun sank in flooding light,
the good and great gave silent cheer
along with the little people, subjects of his care.
The smart of soldiers adorned the ceremony
as becomes a Prince on the highest rung,
a colossus of home-grown royalty
whose deeds deserve a golden song.
