It is difficult to put into words the thoughts that have been present in one's mind for so many years, that they seem to be fundamental facts which need no quoting or explanation. Dad's personality and forceful intellect so impressed itself upon me that I feel, his ideas dominate my existence and as far as I am concerned my actions, even now, are guided still by his inspiring influence. Dad was a kind and loving father, a faithful husband and a man, who above all, was devoted to the idea of a family life. He was inclined, through his illness, to become impatient and irritable, but always regretted, himself, if he had snapped us up unjustly. He could not suffer fools and despised foreigners almost as much. He was brilliant at his work, and had he started life with more capital he would have reached the pinacle of his profession. Dad died as he had lived, loved and worshipped by us all. I will conclude this story of his life with this quotation:-
His feet that ran with mine hath found their goal,
His eyes that met my eyes have looked on night.
His firm limbs are no more; gone back to earth,
Easily mingled - - -
What he is yet,
Not living, lives, hath place in a few minds - -
He wears
The ungathered blossom of quiet, stiller he
Than a deep well at noon, or lovers met,
Than asleep, or the heart after wrath. He is
The silence following great words of peace.
That is all.
Completed Wednesday November 3rd 1948 by his ever sorrowing son,
[signed] Henry Bergh
HENRY BERGH,
Elmsleigh, Staines, England.
Last updated .
Copyright © Anthony Hickson
