Nor deck with monumental shrine or tapering column
His place of rest,
Whose soul, above earth’s homage, meek, yet solemn,
Sits ’mid the blest.
Much was he prized, much loved; his stern rebuke
O’erawed sheep-stealers;
And rogues feared more the good man’s single look
Than forty Peelers.
He’s gone, and discord soon I ween will visit
The land with quarrels;