The man (not of this world):

Until, alas! his period’s run—

The sails of life are furl’d!

His worldly goods are sought by those

The nearest of his kin;—

On cumb’rous shelves, in cupboards, doze

The products of his pen.

They see, at length, in their rude style

That in the vast blue heav’n

There rangeth one more ariel-isle!