Classic Poem

F EBRUARY 28, 1892

Esteem'd, admir'd, belov'd, — farewell!
Alas! what need hast thou of peace?
Our bitterest winter tolls the knell,
And tolls, and tolls, and will not cease.

It tolls and tolls with iron tongue
For empty lives and hearts unbless'd,
And tolls for thee, whose heart was young,
Whose life was stored with hope and rest.

Thy meditative quaint replies,
Cast out like arrows on the air,
The humour in thy dark grey eyes,
The wisdom in thy silver hair, —

Tho' these grow faint, shade after shade,
As those who love thee droop and pass,
Thy being was not wholly made
To shrink like breath upon a glass.

Thou with new graces didst maintain
The old, outworn scholastic seat,
Throned, simply, with an ardent train
Of studious beauty round thy feet.

Those girls, grown mothers soon, will teach
Their sons to praise thy sacred name,
Thy hand that taught their hands to reach
The broader thought, the brighter flame.

So thou, tho' sunk amidst the gloom
That gathers round our reedy shore,
Shalt with diffusèd light illume
A thousand hearths unlit before.