I SAW him sensitive in frame, I knew his spirits low; And wish'd him health, success, and fame: I do not wish it now. For these are all their own reward, And leave no good behind; They try us, oftenest make us hard, Less modest, pure, and kind. Alas! Yet to the suffering man, In this his mortal state, Friends could not give what Fortune can-- Health, ease, a heart elate. But he is now by Fortune foil'd No more; and we retain The memory of a man unspoil'd, Sweet, generous, and humane; With all the fortunate have not-- With gentle voice and brow. Alive, we would have chang'd his lot: We would not change it now. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE NIGHTINGALE; A CONVERSATION POEM by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE GROWING GRAY by HENRY AUSTIN DOBSON THE HOUSE OF LIFE: 83. BARREN SPRING by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI LILIES: 28. NOW by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) A LOVE BARGAINE by JOSEPH BEAUMONT ON CITY STREETS by MARGARET E. BRUNER TO MARY; FROM THE NOVEL OF MARY DE CLIFFORD by SAMUEL EGERTON BRYDGES |