What harvests are destined for Manhood and Fame!
7.
Not to be was that Manhood!--The death-bell is knelling
The hinge of the death-vault creaks harsh on the ears—
How dismal, O Death, is the place of thy dwelling!
Not to be was that Manhood!--Flow on bitter tears!
Go, beloved, thy path to the sun,
Rise, world upon world, with the perfect to rest;
Go—quaff the delight which thy spirit has won,
And escape from our grief in the halls of the blest.