Weep not for him, unhappy Muse! 
  His merits found a grander use
  Some other-where.  God wisely sees
  The place that needs his qualities. 
  Weep not for him, for when Death lowers
  O’er youth’s ambrosia-scented bowers
  He only plucks the choicest flowers.

AN OLD MEMORY

  How sweet the music sounded
    That summer long ago,
  When you were by my side, love,
    To list its gentle flow.

  I saw your eyes a-shining,
    I felt your rippling hair,
  I kissed your pearly cheek, love,
    And had no thought of care.

  And gay or sad the music,
    With subtle charm replete;
  I found in after years, love
    ’Twas you that made it sweet.

  For standing where we heard it,
    I hear again the strain;
  It wakes my heart, but thrills it
    With sad, mysterious pain.

  It pulses not so joyous
    As when you stood with me,
  And hand in hand we listened
    To that low melody.

  Oh, could the years turn back, love! 
    Oh, could events be changed
  To what they were that time, love,
    Before we were estranged;

  Wert thou once more a maiden
    Whose smile was gold to me;
  Were I once more the lover
    Whose word was life to thee,—­

  O God! could all be altered,
    The pain, the grief, the strife,
  And wert thou—­as thou shouldst be—­
    My true and loyal wife!

  But all my tears are idle,
    And all my wishes vain. 
  What once you were to me, love,
    You may not be again.

  For I, alas! like others,
    Have missed my dearest aim. 
  I asked for love.  Oh, mockery! 
    Fate comes to me with fame!

A CAREER

  “Break me my bounds, and let me fly
  To regions vast of boundless sky;
  Nor I, like piteous Daphne, be
  Root-bound.  Ah, no!  I would be free
  As yon same bird that in its flight
  Outstrips the range of mortal sight;
  Free as the mountain streams that gush
  From bubbling springs, and downward rush
  Across the serrate mountain’s side,—­
  The rocks o’erwhelmed, their banks defied,—­
  And like the passions in the soul,
  Swell into torrents as they roll. 
  Oh, circumscribe me not by rules
  That serve to lead the minds of fools! 
  But give me pow’r to work my will,
  And at my deeds the world shall thrill. 
  My words shall rouse the slumb’ring zest
  That hardly stirs in manhood’s breast;
  And as the sun feeds lesser lights,
  As planets have their satellites,
  So round about me will I bind
  The men who prize a master mind!”

  He lived a silent life alone,
  And laid him down when it was done;
  And at his head was placed a stone
  On which was carved a name unknown!