The National tribune., 1881-10-01

With courage he deved and with strong arms wrough
And needed the lessons his past had taught
| Till family there dawned on his anxious sight
! The temple of fame cleaning pure and white.
Then his soul cheered. Then his spirit yearned
| To win him name and with arlor burned.
| Then struggled he on till a darksome cloud
| Was drawn DER the land like funeral shroud,
| And the notes of war made his pulses thrill
| AS never before with their music shrill.
| From his peaceful home to the field of strife
| He fastened to succOr the Nations life
Where the skies dark and the lannon's breath
! Grew frosty, and chilled to a sudden death
Where the bolts flew fast and the earth was red
With torrents that flowed where the bolts sped,
He stood with the bravest who dared to stand
Defending their and his fatherand.
Twas little he had but his life to give;
But he offered that that the truth might live.
Through the bitter years he was brave and true
Nor mattered it whether the skies blue
Or hidden from sight. Well he fought and won
The paudit of millions for work well done.
The Nation approved what the people saw
The people commended, and he whose law
Was duty and justice, whose virtues rare
Shed brightness 'er all through the murky air,
Was chosen to give of his wisdom great
And sit in the councils that ruled the State
Through the years that and the years that
In history often his blent.
Up the mountain he climbed, whereon his
Was yet to be carved in the niche of fame,
And from lower reach to the higher plane
He struggled to conquer yet in vain.
The reward came on in its goody time.
Senator he, who with will sublime
Had vanquished the obstacles in his way
And won him seat where ambition lay.
From thence to the summit but pace.
The people looked upward and saw his face
IS Re downward mighty thrOQQ-
Whose vision had followed his long
And solemnly swore, with his hearts intent,
To ever be true as their President
With pleasure he looked DER the smiling land
And saw that the harvest was close at hand
He had sown the seed oft watered with tears,
And now, that the travail of fifty years
Had ripened the grain, which himself had cast,
He yearned for the husbandman'S Joy at last.
His heart longed to sit by the inge side,
With her whom he took as a blushing bride;
To con DER his books, and to be at ease,
With his children gathered about his knees,
Recounting the entries in lifes great tome,
Till the angel reapers sang Harvest Home
But alas for him He had toed in vain
If he hoped to garner the golden grain
That his vision w. From coudless sky
A bolt was let slip meath the Masters eye,
Which shattered his visions of life while
Caused millions millions of eyes o'erflow
BY Nation honOred and love caressed.
Man scattereth seeds both far and wide
From the hands of faith every side;
He soweth to reap, yet may not
Whatever the aftermath shall be-
Hush tits time for weeping
Tread softly We who pass
noble heart is sleeping
a noble heart. Alas
Is dead
The whole world bows its head.
His was common life From humble stock
His being sprang, and poverty he had,
With honor, for his birth-right Like a rock,
He breasted seas of trouble while a lad.
Stern were the lessons of his early youth
His manhood's spurs were won through bitter toll,
And strong endeavors in the way of truth.
Wherein he failed may heaven grant assoil.
He was a student, and statesman, too.
Who sought the primal source, content,
Till he had done what first he sought to do
Accomplished that on which he intent.
His mind was stored with learning rich and rare
No subject too abstruse for him to solve;
Yet oft when burdened down with weighty
His thoughts some classic question would revolye.
He was husband worthy of the name:
A son, a father, loving kind, and true,
Who sought in life to cast no blot of shame
On honor's shield, nor keep the wrong in view.
His friends he loved, did he hate his foes
Hfoes he had-and earnestly he sought
To leave such record as, when life should close,
He might approve whate'er his hands had wrought
He had his faults, to prove his mortal birth.
His virtues many linked his soul with God.
A warrior, statesman, nobleman of earth,
IT'S well to walk where once his feet have trod.
In life he won the crown of fifty years,
And highest honors which world can give;
In death he gained mourning Nations tears
And crown immortal. Long his name shall live!
Hush! IT'S time for weeping.
Tread softly. Now the bell,
Der him so softly sleeping,
Sounds forth his funeral knell;
The gun
PrOcaims his life-work done.
Hush! IT'S time for weeping.
The harvest now is past
And he who died reapng,
Sleeps quietly at last
Farewell,
Great, noble heart, farewell