 | Elegies and memorials |  |
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II.—To John Stuart Mill.
Oh, noble and beloved and lost! how dimOne moment makes the world, glowed through e'en now
With fire from thy great heart. Yet must we vow,
In this dark temple of our grief, a hymn
Of worship in high strivings, must o'erbrim
Our lives from thy deep fount of wisdom, thou
Priest of a wondrous war, with tranquil brow,
Single against the world's leagued Anakim.
Strong champion of the weak! what arms were thine—
Reason sublime, red-hot with passion pure;
If taught by thee, we pierce, aspire, endure,
So art thou fighting still—yet how to bear
The divine triumph of some cause divine
Thou wilt have won for us—who art not there!
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