The cheering smile, the voice of mirth
     And laughter’s gay surprise
     That please the children born of earth,
     Why deem that Heaven denies?

     Methinks in that refulgent sphere
     That knows not sun or moon,
     An earth-born saint might long to hear
     One verse of “Bonny Doon”;

     Or walking through the streets of gold
     In Heaven’s unclouded light,
     His lips recall the song of old
     And hum “The sky is bright.”

     And can we smile when thou art dead? 
     Ah, brothers, even so! 
     The rose of summer will be red,
     In spite of winter’s snow.

     Thou wouldst not leave us all in gloom
     Because thy song is still,
     Nor blight the banquet-garland’s bloom
     With grief’s untimely chill.

     The sighing wintry winds complain,
     The singing bird has flown,
    —­Hark! heard I not that ringing strain,
     That clear celestial tone?

     How poor these pallid phrases seem,
     How weak this tinkling line,
     As warbles through my waking dream
     That angel voice of thine!

     Thy requiem asks a sweeter lay;
     It falters on my tongue;
     For all we vainly strive to say,
     Thou shouldst thyself have sung!

V

I fear that I have done injustice in my conversation and my report of it to a most worthy and promising young man whom I should be very sorry to injure in any way.  Dr. Benjamin Franklin got hold of my account of my visit to him, and complained that I had made too much of the expression he used.  He did not mean to say that he thought I was suffering from the rare disease he mentioned, but only that the color reminded him of it.  It was true that he had shown me various instruments, among them one for exploring the state of a part by means of a puncture, but he did not propose to make use of it upon my person.  In short, I had colored the story so as to make him look ridiculous.

—­I am afraid I did,—­I said,—­but was n’t I colored myself so as to look ridiculous?  I’ve heard it said that people with the jaundice see everything yellow; perhaps I saw things looking a little queerly, with that black and blue spot I could n’t account for threatening to make a colored man and brother of me.  But I am sorry if I have done you any wrong.  I hope you won’t lose any patients by my making a little fun of your meters and scopes and contrivances.  They seem so odd to us outside people.  Then the idea of being bronzed all over was such an alarming suggestion.  But I did not mean to damage your business, which I trust is now considerable, and I shall certainly come to you again if I have need of the services of a physician.  Only don’t mention the names of any diseases in English or Latin before me next time.  I dreamed about cutis oenea half the night after I came to see you.