Kane: died February 16, 1857.
Not many months ago we greeted him, Crowned with the icy honors of the North. Across the land his hard-won fame went forth, And Maine’s deep woods were shaken limb by limb; His own mild Keystone State, sedate and prim, Burst from decorous quiet as he came; Hot Southern lips, with eloquence aflame, Sounded his triumph; Texas, wild and grim, Proffered its horny hand; the large-lunged West, From out his giant breast, Yelled its frank welcome; and from main to main, Jubilant to the sky, Thundered the mighty cry, Honor to Kane!
He needs no tears, who lived a noble life! We will not weep for him who died so well, But we will gather round the hearth and tell The story of his strife. Such homage suits him well,— Better than funeral pomp or passing bell.