Classic Poem

While still the west was glowing, yesternight,
From a small dwelling in a common street,
Amid all common things of sound and sight,
A mighty spirit Olympus-ward did fleet.
In that celestial commonwealth of souls
Who have deserved Olympus, what a crowd
Will come about him! how the list unrolls
Of names like his! with voice no longer loud,
But low and tender, trembling to the tone
Of his melodious greeting, " O my true!
O Charles! dear Edmund! constant Garrison!
Sweet singer by the Charles! when friends were few. "

Haply some elder champions, from afar,
Noting such press, will tow'rds the front advance:
The man whose soul they say " was like a star, "
And some of German-land, and One from France;
And, of the Sydneys, Algernon, whose word
Writ on our shield bears freedom's fruit for aye;
And those Greek youths that Athens' rights restored
Shall hold his hand in theirs, and Wendell say,
" Beloved Harmodius! thou didst never die;
Aristogeiton! here is for thy sword
A myrtle of Mount Vernon, plucked this day. "

Sing, heavy heart, for heaviness —
Till Music's burden make thine less.
Life is not all that children think,
But graybeards at its failures wink
And find in harmony relief
From touches of remembered grief;
For Age well knows he nothing knows,
And life, in drawing to its close,
Seems in a deeper mystery mailed,
And all the clouds that erst prevailed
From time to time with gleams of light
Gather to deeper folds of night,
Impenetrable as to us
Th' envolumed hippopotamus.
Then, heavy heart, for heaviness
Sing on and make thy misery less;
In God's name use whatever art
May cure that heaviness of heart,
And thank the Giver who relents
Thus much of his austere intents
And lends the setting of our sun
Rose-colored clouds to gild the dun
That looms behind the horizon's line,
Where unknown seas and skies combine.