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John Quincy Adams

John Quincy Adams image
Parent Issue
Day
11
Month
August
Year
1848
Copyright
Public Domain
OCR Text

He m walking with ihe shining ones, his labor has boen lono For him no mournful requiem, but a pican ful! and streng; But woo ! for our poor nation, she mny well put on her weeds, And her tolling bells la-nonts, for her unholy deeds. Alas ! alas ! for 119, not him- the dearlv loved and good - Between us and the evil time, hia reverend presence stuod, And the nation, rushing madly on, feit ita wildest pulses stilled, As tho trembling vnice of that oíd man, in solemn warning thrilled. Rest, for the truest of tribunes ! standing faithful to the last, His thin locks like the snow-wroaths, on his uative hill-tops cast; - Now while that snow is wasting, to the grave they bear dim down, The glory of his upright life, resting on him like a crown. The mo.nrning of the many heus, the drooping fiaes, n!l seom Liko somo dim, unreal pajeant, passing onvvard in a dreatn ; For following with the living lo his kM and narrow lied, Methinks I see a shadowy liost- a train of noble dead. The patriota of our olüen time- men who, dying, left in trust Honor and i gbts our cravon land has trampled in the dust, Till only one of all her sons, the last branch on the tree Young Freedom planted, dared to stand, liko them erect and free. 'Tis a strange and niouniful pngeant, tbat is alowly passing on, The PhantoiB patriota gatherod, ío the funeral of their son ! ín Bbadowy guiso thoy move nlong, brave Otis, with hushed trend, And Warren, walking reverently by tlio futhc-r of tilo dead, furemost in the miety band, a gentío fonn is tliere, Tn the white robes of the Augels- and their glory lound her huir; She liovers noar, and bends above lier world-wide honored child, AnJ be joy tbat only [vea n Heaven benins oí: hor features mild. tbey beftr him to bis grave, in fho fullnoss I of bis years, e nnd própliet, leavingusin ourdnyofraany (Varó ; - Nevèr more aro id the dnrknessof the wild nnd ovil d ty. áhall bis v!iite locks', !ilo a beacon, noint tho sure