Noble

A quiet hall where echoes glide,
The air is thick with old‑world pride;
There stands a soul both firm and true,
A banner borne in humble hue.

His heart, a compass forged in steel,
Points north to kindness, truth, and zeal;
No gaudy crown, no gilded throne,
Yet honour shines where he has known.

He walks the streets with measured tread,
A steady flame where hope is fed;
In every deed, in every word,
The quiet strength of nobleness is heard.

So let the world recall his name,
Not for the riches, nor for fame,
But for the steadfast, gentle light
That turns the darkest day to bright.