Classic Poem

Dead! and where now those earnest, loving eyes,
Which kindled in so many eyes the light?
Have they departed from our earthly skies
And left no rays to illuminate the night?

Dead! and where now that heart of sympathy
That welled and yearned, and with true love o'erflowed?
Oh, heart of love, is the rich treasure dry?
Forever sealed, what once such gifts bestowed?

Dead! and where now that gen'rous, nervous hand
That thrilled each nerve within its generous clasp?
Will it no more enlink the mystic band,
Hallowing and strength'ning all within its grasp?

Heart, eyes, and hand, to dust are all consign'd —
It was his lot, for he was born of earth;
But the rich treasures of his master-mind
Abide in Heav'n , for there they had their birth.

Abide in Heav'n! oh, the enkindling trust!
The record of his deeds remaineth here;
The Acacia blooms beside his silent dust
To point unerringly to von bright sphere.

Then, though the SHATTERED COLUMN mark his fate,
And WEEPING V IRGIN tell th' unfinished F ANE ,
Not altogether are we desolate,
For oh, departed friend, we meet again!