A gentle life-course, with a gracious end.
Irreparable loss to Art, deep sorrow
To those his comrades, who so loved the man,
And who had hoped for many a sunny morrow
To greet that gallant spirit in the van.
That tall, spare form, that curl-crowned head, the knitting
Of supple hands behind it as he sat,
That quaint face-wrinkling smile like sunshine flitting,
The droll, dry comment, the quotation pat;
The small oft-loaded pipe, of ancient moulding,