 | The poetical writings of Fitz-Greene Halleck, with extracts from those of Joseph Rodman Drake |  |
356
A LAMENT FOR GREAT MEN DEPARTED.
“Hung be the heavens with black.”
Shakespeare.
Shakespeare.
There is a gloom on every brow,
A sadness in each face we see;
The City Hall is lonely now,
The Franklin Bank looks wearily.
A sadness in each face we see;
The City Hall is lonely now,
The Franklin Bank looks wearily.
The Surgeons' Hall in Barclay Street,
Wears to the eye a ghastlier hue!
And Staten Island's Summer-seat
Has lost its best attractions too!
Wears to the eye a ghastlier hue!
And Staten Island's Summer-seat
Has lost its best attractions too!
Well may we mourn a stage-and-four
(Our curse upon the rogue that drove it!)
From out our city lately bore
All that adorn, and grace, and love it.
(Our curse upon the rogue that drove it!)
From out our city lately bore
All that adorn, and grace, and love it.
Ah, little knew each scoundrel horse
How much they vexed, and grieved, and marred us;
They cared not sixpence for the loss
We feel in Colden and Bogardus.
How much they vexed, and grieved, and marred us;
They cared not sixpence for the loss
We feel in Colden and Bogardus.
357
And Doctor Mitchill, LL. D.,
And Tompkins, Lord of Staten Island!
Hushed be the strain of mirth and glee,
'Twere reason now to laugh or smile.
And Tompkins, Lord of Staten Island!
Hushed be the strain of mirth and glee,
'Twere reason now to laugh or smile.
Long has proud Albany, elate,
Reared her two steeples high in air,
And boasted that she ruled the State,
Because the Governor lives there.
Reared her two steeples high in air,
And boasted that she ruled the State,
Because the Governor lives there.
But loftier now will be her tone
To know, within her walls are met
The brightest gems that ever shone
Upon a city's coronet.
To know, within her walls are met
The brightest gems that ever shone
Upon a city's coronet.
Though heavy is our load of pain
To feel that Fate has so bereft us,
Some consolations yet remain,
For Dicky Riker still is left us!
To feel that Fate has so bereft us,
Some consolations yet remain,
For Dicky Riker still is left us!
And Hope, with smile and gesture proud,
Points to a day of triumph nigh,
When, like a sunbeam from the cloud,
That dims awhile an April sky,
Points to a day of triumph nigh,
When, like a sunbeam from the cloud,
That dims awhile an April sky,
Our champions shall again return,
Their pockets with new honors crowded,
That every heart may cease to mourn,
And hats no more in crape be shrouded.
Their pockets with new honors crowded,
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And hats no more in crape be shrouded.
The Park shall throng with merry feet,
And boys and beauties hasten there,
To place the new Judge on his seat!
And hail the great Bogardus, Mayor!
And boys and beauties hasten there,
To place the new Judge on his seat!
And hail the great Bogardus, Mayor!
H.
| The poetical writings of Fitz-Greene Halleck, with extracts from those of Joseph Rodman Drake | |