To The Memory of Dr. Huskins.
"Neglected son of genius! thou hast pass'd
In broken-hearted loneliness away;
And one who prized thy talents, fain would cast
The cypress-wreath above thy nameless clay.
Ah, could she yet thy spirit's flight delay,
Till the cold world, relenting from its scorn,
The fadeless laurel round thy brows should twine,
Crowning the innate majesty of mind,
By crushing poverty and sorrow torn.