DEAR crown of manliness and fervid truth! Thy gentle reign of over thirty years Is drawing to its close, and stifled tears Attest the sorrows of our heyday youth. Have we no words to tell our bitter ruth?— Silence reveals what the still heart reveres. A living memory of our past arrears Leaves us benumb'd—yea, dumb in very sooth. Our grief is one with thine, dear Master-friend, For we shall miss thee at thy wonted seat. Tho' other minds may claim our reverence meet, And other guides may on our steps attend, Thy spirit will go with us to the end— An influence breathing of a life complete. |