THE earth may ring, from shore to shore, With echoes of a glorious name, But he, whose loss our tears deplore, Has left behind him more than fame. For when the death-frost came to lie On Leggett's warm and mighty heart And quench his bold and friendly eye, His spirit did not all depart. The words of fire that from his pen Were flung upon the fervid page, Still move, still shake the hearts of men, Amid a cold and coward age. His love of truth, too warm, too strong For Hope or Fear to chain or chill, His hate of tyranny and wrong, Burn in the breasts he kindled still. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE LIGHTS OF NEW YORK by SARA TEASDALE APPARENT FAILURE by ROBERT BROWNING THE RAT by WILLIAM HENRY DAVIES SAILING BEYOND SEAS (OLD STYLE) by JEAN INGELOW IN A BYE-CANAL by HERMAN MELVILLE SONNET: 65 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE CELESTIAL HEIGHTS by ALFRED AUSTIN |