--His was the type of character that makes Republics strong,--unstain'd fidelity,-- A dignity of mind that mark'd unmov'd The unsought honors clustering round his path, And chang'd them into duties. With firm step On the high places of the earth he walk'd, Serving his Country, not to share her spoils, Nor pamper with exciting eloquence A parasite ambition. With clear eye And cautious speech, and judgment never warp'd By fancy or enthusiasm, he pursued An even, upright course. His bounties sought Unostentatious channels, and he loved To help the young who strove to help themselves, Aiding their oar against opposing tides, Into the smooth, broad waters. Thus flow'd on His almost fourscore years,--levying slight tax On form or mind, while self-forgetful still, He rose to prop the sad, or gird the weak. --Yet, when at last, in deep repose he lay, His classic features, and unfurrow'd brow, Wearing the symmetry of earlier days Which Death, as if relenting, render'd back In transitory gleam, 'twas sweet to hear His aged Pastor at the coffin-side Bearing full tribute to his piety So many lustrums, that consistent faith Which nerv'd his journey and had led him home. Home?--Yes! Give thanks, ye, who still travel on, Oft startled, as some pilgrim from your side Falls through the arches of Time's broken bridge Without a warning, and is seen no more-- Give thanks that he is safe,--at home,--in heaven. * * * * * Back to the grave, from whence ye scarce have turn'd, Break up the clods on which the dews of night But twice had rested. Lo! another comes. She, who for many years had garner'd up Her heart's chief strength in him, finding his love Armor and solace, in all weal or woe, Seem'd the world poor without him, that she made Such haste to join him in the spirit-land? Through the dark valley of the shade of death, Treading so close behind him? Scarce his lip Learn'd the new song of heaven, before she rose To join the enraptur'd strain. Her earthly term Of fair and faithful duty well perform'd, In fear of God, and true good will to man, How blessed thus to enter perfect rest, Where is no shadow of infirmity, Nor fear of change, but happy souls unite In high ascriptions to redeeming Love. * * * * * And thou,[1] sole daughter of their house and heart, Leading thy mournful little ones to look Into the open and insatiate tomb, With what a rushing tide thy sorrows came. --The sudden smiting, in his glorious prime Of him who held the key of all thy joys,-- The fair child following him,--the noble Friend Who watch'd thee with parental pride,--and now Father and Mother have forsaken thee. --The lessons of a life-long pilgrimage Thou hast achiev'd, while yet a few brief moons With waning finger, as in mockery wrote Of treasur'd hopes, more fleeting than their own.