AT GRADY’S GRAVE.


“WE live in deeds, not years; in thoughts, not breadths;

In feelings, not in figures on a dial;

We should count time by heart-throbs; he most lives

Who thinks most, feels the noblest, acts the best”—

The Poet, dreaming in divinest mood,

Scanning the future with a Prophet’s eyes,

Beheld the outlines of the Perfect Man

Take shape before the vision of his soul;

And though the beauteous phantom could not stay,

He caught its grace and glory in the song

Wherein he praises the Ideal Man

Of whom he dreamed, and whom the world should know,

When in the teeming womb of Time the years

Had ripened him, mature in every part.

While yet the world, expectant of this man,

Watched, mutely wondering when and whence would come

This radiant one, this full-bloom, fairest flower

Of manhood’s excellence, which Heaven itself

Were fain to keep, to crown the angels with—

God granting unto Earth but one or two

Within the cycle of a century—

Lo! suddenly, from out the realm of Dreams,

The splendid Vision of the musing bard,

His perfect and ideal Man, came forth,

And walked within the common light of day,

A living, breathing Presence—Henry Grady!

Did not this marvelously gifted man,

Who trod with us the old, familiar paths,

And glorified them daily with strange light,

As if a god were dwelling in our midst,

Measure, full-length, the stature of the man

The Poet quarried from the mines of Thought?

What though his years were brief, did he not fill

Their precious brevity with glorious deeds,

Till he outlived the utmost lives of men

Of lesser mold, of feebler fibred souls?

Garnering betwixt his cradle and his grave

The ripened harvests of a century!

Did he not live in thoughts as flowers live

In sunshine, filling the whole world with light,

And the celestial fragrance of his soul!

Did he not live in feelings so refined,

That every heart-string into music woke,

Though touched more lightly than a mother’s mouth

Would touch the sleep-sealed eyelids of her babe!

Ah, were the throbs of his great, loving heart,

Meet as a measure for his span of life?

Would not such measure circle all the world,

And find no end, save in infinity?

If he lives most—(and who shall dare deny

A truth which is as true as God is true?)

If he doth live the most who thinks the most,

Who feels the noblest, and who acts the best,

Thou, O my friend! didst to the utmost mete

Of transitory mortal life live out

Thine earthly span, though to our eyes thy life

Seems like the flashing of a falling star,

Which for a moment fills the heavens with light,

And vanishes forever.

Nay, not so—

The Poet’s words are thy best epitaph!

And though the stone which marks thy grave but tells

The number of the years thy mortal frame

Retained that eagle-wingèd soul of thine,

How long thy all-compassionating heart

Inhabited its clayey tenement,

As one of God’s blest almoners, sent down

To fill the world with light and melody;

Tells when that prophet-tongue of thine was stilled,

Which, touched with inspiration’s sacred fire,

Preached Man’s eternal brotherhood, and led

The battle waged for Justice, Truth, and Right,

Still, and despite the tears that Sorrow woos

From the spontaneous fountains of our hearts,

We know that thou didst come unto thy grave

Brimful of years, if noble deeds and thoughts,

If love to God and Man, be made alone

The measure of thy length of human years;

And that, even as thy soul beyond the stars

Shall live—as God lives—everlastingly,

So shall the memory of thy shining deeds,

Remain forever in the hearts of men;

Nor shall the record of thy fame be touched

By Time’s defacing hand—thou art immortal!

And now, dear friend, farewell to thee! Thine eyes

Have death’s inviolate seal upon their lids;

They cannot see the Season’s glorious shows,

Although, methinks, in memory of thee

The grass grows greener here, and tenderer

The daily benediction of the sun

Falls on thy grave, as if thy very dust

Had sentience still, and, kindling into life

Under the fiery touchings of the sun,

Broke through the turfy barriers of the tomb

To mingle with the light, and mellow it;

There’s not a flower that timidly uplifts

Its smiling face, to look upon the Dawn,

Or bows its head to worship silently

The awful glory of the midnight stars,

But what takes on a gentler grace for thee,

And for thy sake a sweeter incense flings

From out its golden censer.

Nor, my friend,

Will thy dull ears awaken to the songs,

Of jubilant birds, the Summer’s full-voiced choir,

Singing thy praises—for they sing of Love,

And Love was the high choral of thy life,

The swan-song of thy soul; thou canst not hear

The sweetest sounds—made sweeter for thy sake

By the presiding Genius of this place—

The silvery minor-music of the rain,

Those murmurous drops, with iterations soft,

Of every flower, and trembling blade of grass,

A fairy’s cymbal make; the whispering wind,

The sea-like moaning of the distant pines,

The sound of wandering streams, or, sweeter still,

The voice of happy children at their play—

Ah, none of these interminable tones

Of Nature’s many-chorded instrument,

Which make the music of the outward world,

As thou didst make its inner harmony,

Out of the finer love-chords of thy heart,

Shall ever move thee; but a mightier charm

Shall often woo thee from thy heavenly home,

To shed upon thy place of sculpture

The splendor of a Presence from the skies;

For thou shalt see a fairer sight than all

The panoramas of the Seasons bring,

And hear far sweeter music than the sound

Of murmuring waters, or the melody

Of birds that warble in their happy nests:

Yea, thou shalt see how little children come

To deck thy grave with daisies, wet with tears;

See homeless Want slow hither wend his way,

To bless the ashes of “the poor man’s friend,”

And from the scant dole of his wretchedness,

Despite his hunger, lay a liberal gift

Upon thy grave, in token of his love;

And in the pride and glory of her state,

Sceptred and crowned, the Spirit of the South,

Whose Heart, and Soul, and living Voice thou wert,

Will come with Youth and Manhood by her side,

To draw fresh inspirations from thy dust,

And consecrate her children with thy fame,

Till they have learned the lessons of thy life,

And glorify her, too, with noble deeds;

Thou shalt behold here, coming from all lands,

The men who honor Love and Loyalty,

Who glory in the strength of those who scale

The mountain-summits of Humanity,

And from their star-encircled peaks proclaim

The Fatherhood of the Eternal God,

The Brotherhood of Man—both being one

In holy bonds of justice, truth, and love—

Christ’s “Peace on Earth and good-will unto Men”—

That old evangel, preached anew by thee,

Till the persuasion of thy golden tongue

Quickened and moved the world with mighty love,

As if a god had come to earth again!

Charles W. Hubner.

Atlanta, Ga.


MEMORIAL MEETINGS.