Measured the circle of the will and deed,
Each country's changing thoughts and morals too,
The darksome book with clearness could he read;
Yet how he, breathless 'midst his friends so true,
Despaired in sorrow, scarce from pain was freed,—
All this have we, in sadly happy years,
For he was ours, bewailed with feeling tears.
When from the agonizing weight of grief
He raised his eyes upon the world again,
We show'd him how his thoughts might find relief
From the uncertain present's heavy chain,
Gave his fresh-kindled mind a respite brief,
With kindly skill beguiling ev'ry pain,
And e'en at eve, when setting was his sun,
From his wan cheeks a gentle smile we won.
Full early had he read the stern decree,
Sorrow and death to him, alas, were known;
Ofttimes recovering, now departed he,—
Dread tidings, that our hearts had fear'd to own!
Yet his transfigured being now can see