Seem'd in the light of day his noble mind!
How was his nature, pleasing yet sedate,
Now for glad converse joyously incline,
Then swiftly changing, spirit-fraught, elate,
Life's plan with deep-felt meaning it design'd,
Fruitful alike in counsel and in deed!
This have we proved, this tasted, in our need.
He was our own! O may that thought so blest
Overcome the voice of wailing and of woe
He might have sought the Lasting, safe at rest
In harbour, when the tempest ceased to blow.
Meanwhile his mighty spirit onward press'd
Where goodness, beauty, truth, for ever grow;
And in his rear, in shadowy outline, lay
The vulgar, which we all, alas, obey!
Now doth he deck the garden-turret fair
Where the stars' language first illuded his soul,
As secretly yet clearly through the air
On the eterne, the living sense it stole;
And to his own, and our great profit, there