Few are the words, and simply do they stand,
Yet thrill us—they were written by his hand.
His hand had penned these words on which we gaze;
The hand that gave the ‘Daisy’ sweetest praise;
That held a sting for falsehood, and for pride,
And dared raise manhood o’er all else beside.
His eyes looked down upon that faded page—
The eyes that had the vision of the sage;
The eyes that did with wit and laughter glow,
Yet had a tear of sympathy with woe.