 | The Ballad of Babie Bell And Other Poems |  |
75
A GREAT MAN'S DEATH.
To-day a god died. Never any more
Shall man look on him. Never any more,
In hall or senate, shall his eloquent voice
Give hope to a sick nation. In his prime
Not all the world could daunt him: yet a ghost,
A poor mute ghost, a something we call Death,
Has silenced him forever! Let the land
Look for his peer: he hath not yet been found.
Shall man look on him. Never any more,
In hall or senate, shall his eloquent voice
Give hope to a sick nation. In his prime
Not all the world could daunt him: yet a ghost,
A poor mute ghost, a something we call Death,
Has silenced him forever! Let the land
Look for his peer: he hath not yet been found.
A crimson bird, of not so many days
As there are leaves upon the wildling rose,
Sings from yon sycamore; this violet
Sprung up an hour since from the fibrous earth:
At noon the rain fell, and to-night the sun
Will sink with its old splendor in the sea!—
And yet to-day a god died. ... Nature smiles
On our mortality. A robin's death,
Or the unnoticed falling of a leaf,
Is more to her than when a great man dies!
As there are leaves upon the wildling rose,
Sings from yon sycamore; this violet
Sprung up an hour since from the fibrous earth:
At noon the rain fell, and to-night the sun
Will sink with its old splendor in the sea!—
And yet to-day a god died. ... Nature smiles
On our mortality. A robin's death,
Or the unnoticed falling of a leaf,
Is more to her than when a great man dies!
| The Ballad of Babie Bell And Other Poems | |