A MEMORIAL. M. A. C. thicker, deeper, darker growing, The solemn vista to the tomb Must know henceforth another shadow, And give another cypress room. In love surpassing that of brothers, We walked, O friend, from childhood's day; And, looking back o'er fifty summers, Our foot-prints track a common way. One in our faith, and one our longing To make the world within our reach Somewhat the better for our living, And gladder for our human speech. Thou heardst with me the far-off voices, But life to thee was warm and present, To homely joys and loves and friendships And so the shadow on the dial Ran back and left thee always young. And who could blame the generous weakness Which, only to thyself unjust, So overprized the worth of others, And dwarfed thy own with self-distrust? All hearts grew warmer in the presence Of one who, seeking not his own, Gave freely for the love of giving, Nor reaped for self the harvest sown. Thy greeting smile was pledge and prelude The task was thine to mould and fashion Life's plastic newness into grace; To make the boyish heart heroic, And light with thought the maiden's face. O'er all the land, in town and prairie, The living forms that owe their beauty And fitness to thy shaping hand. Thy call has come in ripened manhood, The noonday calm of heart and mind, While I, who dreamed of thy remaining To mourn me, linger still behind: Live on, to own, with self-upbraiding, It was not mine among thy kindred My tears of mourning dropped with theirs. All day the sea-waves sobbed with sorrow, With thine upon thy homestead hills. Green be those hillside pines forever, And green the meadowy lowlands be, And green the old memorial beeches, Name-carven in the woods of Lee! Still let them greet thy life companions A tender memory sadly sweet. O friend! if thought and sense avail not I trust the instincts of my heart. Thine be the quiet habitations, Thine the green pastures, blossom-sown, And smiles of saintly recognition, As sweet and tender as thy own. |