St. Paul daily globe. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn.) 1884-1896, 1892-03-31
WHITMAN'S BURIAL.
Loving Friends Conduct It-InGer-
soils Tribute.

soils Tribute.
CAMDEN, n. j., March 30.-Seyeral
thousand people had congregated around
the Whitman tomb Of rough granite
long before the funeral procession ar
rived today. Near the vault large tent
had been erected for the funeral sery-
ices, with raised platform and pulpit
at one end, near which was the bier.
1draped with black.
D Francis Howard Williams, of Phia-
delphia, first read extracts from
/" Il Leaves O. Grass" Whitman's famous
collection of writings. Thomas b. Har
ned. the poets longtime friend. told of
Whitman's sacrifices for the fultiilment
of his duty to his country during the war
as nurse for sick soldiers work
which broke his stalwart physique
and brought him to Camden in 1878
poor, paralyZed and sick. Il deem it"
said Mr. Harmed, my duty to mention
two important facts: One his positive
belief i'll immortality and the other his
fearlessness of death. He believed that
he Tired in an eternal universe, and that
man was indeStructible as his creator
DIR. Buck, the poets bographer, fol-
lowed i'll an address. after which Col.
spoke in part thus: Again we in the
mystery of life are brought face to face
with the mystery of death. A great
man, great American-the most
eminent citizen of this re-
public = is dead before US.
Great he was--so great that he rose
above the greatness that he met without
arrogance; and SO great that he stopped
to the lowest without conscious cende-
scension. He sympathlZed with the i'm
prisoned and the deSpised; and even on
the brow of crime he was
great enough to place the kiss
of human sympathy. One of the
greatest lines in our literature is his.
speaking of an outcast, and the line Is
great enough TO do honor TO the greatest
genius that had ever liyed-he said:
Not until the sun excludes you will l
exclude you
He accepted and absorbed all the
cries, all creeds, all religions. and be-
iieved i'll none He was always willing
and ready to meet and greet this thing
called death And for many months he
sat in the deepening twilight waiting
for night-waiting for the light. And
SO, hand i'll hand, between smiles and
tears,he reached his journeys end.
To-day we gave back to mother nature,
to her clasp and kiss, one of the BRAY
est, sweetest souls that ever lived III
humen clay. And l thank him for the
brave words he had said on the
SUBJECT OF death. Since he has
lived death is less fearful than
he was before, and thousands
and millions Will walk down into the
dark valley Of the shadow holding Walt
Whitman by the hand, long after we
are dead. The brave words he has
spoken will sound like trumpetS to the
dying. And so lay this poor wreath
upon this great mans tomb. L loved
him living. and love him still.
I The following poem was sent from
New York by Edmund Clarence Sted-
man. attached to wreath of ivy:
3 Good bye. Walt.
z Good bye from all you loved on earth,
sRoek, tree dumb creature. man and woman,
To you their comrade human.
The last assault ends now, and now III
some great world has birth
A minstrel whose strong souls mas broader
y wings
More brave imaginings.
e Stars crown the hilltop where your dust
a shall live,
8. Even as we say good bye.
Good bye, old Walt"