Man be God's forecast, and Heaven is here.

Bear him to burial, Harvard, thy Hero!

Not on thy shoulders alone is he borne;

They of the burden go forth on the morrow,

Heavy and slow, through a world left forlorn.

No grief for him, for ourselves the lamenting;

What giant arm to stay courage up now?

March we a thousand file up to the City,

Fellow with fellow linked,—he taught us how!

Never dismayed at the dark nor the distance!