This is in the meter and rhyme scheme of John McCain’s favorite poem by Robert Service: The Cremation of Sam McGee, which he learned while a prisoner in the “Hanoi Hilton.”
A man from the west was laid to rest.
Now his Earthly race is run.
The Scriptures read, the fine words said
By his eulogists. All: “Well done.”
He served us well; he went through hell
And still he did not complain.
You pay your dues; you win; you lose:
The warrior, John McCain.
Through broken bones, our Maker hones
The character of a man.
And if they heal, they’re hard as steel.
That’s part of the Maker’s plan.
Those still alive don’t just survive
For they know the price of war.
It’s way too high; men, babies die;
So, know what you’re fighting for.
Like those who served, John sometimes swerved,
A noble, imperfect man.
This warrior tried until he died
To finish what he began.
He always put country first.
Together strong, divided wrong,
Put self first and we’ll be cursed.
And now he’s gone; we must go on.
Who of us will rise to lead?
Here is the work we must not shirk:
Fight for America’s creed.