Epitaph.
All that's beautiful in woman,
All we in her nature love,
All that's good in all that's human,
Passed this gate to courts above.
In Memory of John W. Francis, Jr.
He was the pulse-beat of true hearts,
The love-light of fond eyes:
When such a man from earth departs,
'Tis the survivor dies.
Nature's Nobleman
A Fragment.
When winter's cold and summer's heat
Shall come and go again,
A hundred years will be complete
Since Marion crossed the main,
And brought unto this wild retreat
His dark-eyed wife of Spain.
He was the founder of a free
And independent band,
Who lit the fires of liberty
The revolution fanned:—
His patent of nobility
Read in the ransomed land!
Around his deeds a lustre throngs,
A heritage designed
To teach the world to spurn the wrongs
Once threatened all mankind:—
To his posterity belongs
The peerage of the mind.
A Wall-Street Lyric.