One shade alone hung o’er us,
To cloud the scene before us,
And temper with humility our joy—
One mild but earnest voice, though still,
Told us of mingled good and ill,
And the old moral of the world’s alloy!”
Ah!—may our names, like his,[[148]] be known,
When we are passed and grown
But Memories, as Greek and Moghul are,
By deeds like these alone,